6oldier  or  Fortune 


Randall  Parrish 


UNIT.  OP  CAUF.  LIBRARY.  LOS  ANGELES 


I  clasped  the  straying  hand  and  drew  her  to  me 

[Page  366] 


GORDON    CRAIG 


SOLDIER  OF  FORTUNE 


BY 

RANDALL   PARRISH 

AUTHOR  OF 

KEITH    OF    THE     BORDER,    WHEN   WILDERNESS   WAS   KINO, 
MY   LADY   OF  DOUBT,    ETC.,  ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

ALONZO   KIMBALL 


CHICAGO 

A.  C.  McCLURG  &  CO. 
1912 


COPYRIGHT 

A.  C.  McCLURG  &  CO. 
1912 


Published  October,  1912 


Copyrighted  in  Great  Britain 


PRESS   OF    THE  VAIL   COMPANY 
COSHOCTON,    U.    S.    A. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I    THE  FIRST  STEP 9 

II  THE  CASE  OF  PHILIP  HENLEY  .     .     .     .     17 

III  I  ACCEPT  THE  OFFER  28 

IV  AN  ESCAPE  FROM  ARREST 34 

V    BEGINNING  ACQUAINTANCE 45 

VI     WE  OPEN  CONFIDENCES 54 

VII  THE  WOMAN'S   STORY     ....?.     65 

VIII     FACING   THE    PROBLEM 74 

IX  WE  COMPLETE  ARRANGEMENTS  ....     84 

X  AT  THE  PLANTATION  .......     92 

XI    A  PLEASANT  WELCOME 103 

XII     THE  DEAD  MAN 113 

XIII  I  GET  INTO  THE  GAME 121 

XIV  THE  CONFESSION 131 

XV    THE    DECISION 140 

XVI     COMPELLING  SPEECH 150 

XVII     CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 161 

XVIII     BEGINNING  EXPLORATION 172 

XIX    A  CHAMBER  OF  HORROR 182 

XX    TAKEN  PRISONER 190 

XXI     ON  BOARD  THE  SEA  GULL 200 

XXII     I  CHANGE  FRONT 212 

XXIII  THE  SECRET  OF  THE  VOYAGE   ....  224 

XXIV  I  JOIN  THE  SEA  GULL 235 


2132074 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXV  THE  FREEDOM  OF  THE  DECK   ....  246 

XXVI    THE  NEW  PERIL 256 

XXVII     THE  TABLES  TURNED 266 

XXVIII  THE  CREOLE'S  STORY  .     .     .     .'    .     .     .277 

XXIX     UNDER  WAY 287 

XXX  WE  MAKE  THE  EFFORT  .     .     .           .     .  297 

XXXI    THE  OPEN  BOAT 305 

XXXII    A  TALK  IN  THE  NIGHT 315 

XXXIII  WE  UNDERSTAND  EACH  OTHER  ....  324 

XXXIV  THE  REVENUE  CUTTER 333 

XXXV  THE  DECK  OF  THE  SEA  GULL  ....  343 

XXXVI     IN  POSSESSION 353 

XXXVII    A  HOMEWARD  VOYAGE 361 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

I  clasped  the  straying  hand  and  drew  her  to  me   .      Frontispiece 
I  read  it  over  slowly,  but  it  appeared  innocent  enough    .      30 

He  gasped  a  bit,  rubbing  his  bruised  wrist 222 

"  Give  me  back  those  papers  " 356 


GORDON   CRAIG 

SOLDIER    OF   FORTUNE 
CHAPTER  I 

THE    FIRST   STEP 

I  HAD  placed  the  lumber  inside  the  yard  as  directed, 
and  was  already  rehitching  the  traces,  when  the 
man  crossed  the  street  slowly,  switching  his  light  cane 
carelessly  in  the  air.  I  had  noticed  him  before  standing 
there  in  the  doorway  of  the  drug  store,  my  attention 
attracted  by  the  fashionable  cut  of  his  clothes,  and  the 
manner  in  which  he  watched  me  work.  Now,  as  he 
rounded  the  heads  of  the  mules,  I  straightened  up,  ob- 
serving him  more  closely.  He  was  forty  or  forty-five, 
heavily  built,  with  a  rather  pasty-white  face,  a  large 
nose,  eyes  unusually  deep  set,  and  a  closely  clipped 
mustache  beginning  to  gray.  His  dress  was  correct  to 
a  button,  and  there  was  a  pleasant  look  to  the  mouth 
which  served  to  mitigate  the  otherwise  hard  expression 
of  countenance.  As  I  faced  him  in  some  surprise  he 
looked  me  fairly  in  the  eyes. 

9 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  Been  at  this  job  long?  "  he  asked  easily. 

"  Three  days,"  I  replied  unhesitatingly,  drawing  the 
reins  through  my  hands. 

"Like  it?" 

"  Well,  I  Ve  had  worse  and  better,"  with  a  laugh. 
"  I  prefer  this  to  my  last  one." 

"What  was  that?" 

"  Ridin'  blind  baggage." 

It  was  his  turn  to  laugh,  and  he  did  so. 

"  I  thought  I  was  not  mistaken,"  he  said  at  last,  sober- 
ing. u  You  are  the  same  lad  the  train  hands  put  off  the 
Atlantic  Express  at  Vernon  a  week  ago." 

I  nodded,  beginning  to  suspect  him  of  being  a  fly-cop 
who  had  spotted  me  for  a  pull. 

"  I  never  noticed  the  name  of  the  burg,"  I  returned. 
"  Why?  were  you  there?  " 

'  Yes,  I  came  in  on  the  same  train.  Just  caught  a 
glimpse  of  your  face  in  the  light  of  the  brakeman's  lan- 
tern. How  did  you  get  here?  " 

"  Freight,  two  hours  later." 

'  You  're  not  a  bum,  or  you  would  n't  be  working." 

I  put  one  foot  on  the  wheel,  but  he  touched  me  on 
the  sleeve  with  his  cane. 

'  Wait  a  minute,"  and  there  was  more  animation  in 
the  tone.  "  I  may  have  something  better  for  you  than 

10 


THE  FIRST  STEP 

this  lumber  wagon.  I  'm  right,  ain't  I,  in  guessing 
you  're  no  regular  bum?  " 

"  I  Ve  bummed  it  most  of  the  way  from  Frisco;  I 
had  to.  I  was  homesick  for  the  East,  and  lost  my 
transportation." 

"Your  what?" 

"  Transportation;  I  was  discharged  at  the  Presidio." 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  smiling  again,  and  tapping  the  wheel 
with  his  stick;  "  the  army  —  foreign  service?  " 

"The  Philippines  three  years;  invalided  home." 

"  By  God,  you  don't  look  it,"  his  eyes  on  me. 
"  Never  saw  a  more  perfect  animal.  Fever?  " 

"  No,  bolo  wound;  got  caught  in  the  brush,  and  then 
lay  out  in  a  swamp  all  night,  till  our  fellows  got  up." 

He  looked  at  his  watch,  and  I  climbed  into  my  seat. 

"  See  here,  I  have  n't  time  to  talk  now,  but  I  believe 
you  are  the  very  fellow  I  am  looking  for.  If  you 
want  an  easier  job  than  this,"  waving  a  gloved  hand 
toward  the  pile  of  lumber,  "  come  and  see  me  and  we  '11 
talk  it  over."  He  took  a  card  out  of  a  morocco  case, 
and  wrote  a  line  on  it.  "  Come  to  that  address  at  nine 
o'clock  tonight." 

I  took  the  bit  of  pasteboard  as  he  handed  it  up. 

"  All  right,  sir,  I  '11  be  there  on  time." 

"  Come  to  the  side  door,"  he  added  swiftly,  lower- 

II 


GORDON  CRAIG 

ing  his  voice,  "  the  one  on  the  south.     Give  three  raps. 
By  the  way,  what  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  Gordon  Craig,"  I  answered  without  pausing  to 
think.  His  eyes  twinkled  shrewdly. 

"  Ever  been  known  by  any  other?  " 

"  I  enlisted  under  another;  I  ran  away  from  home, 
and  was  not  of  age." 

"Oh,  I  see;  well,  that  makes  no  difference  to  me. 
Don't  forget,  Craig,  the  side  door  at  nine." 

,1  glanced  back  as  we  turned  the  corner;  he  was  still 
standing  at  the  edge  of  the  walk,  tapping  the  concrete 
with  his  cane.  Out  of  sight  I  looked  curiously  at  the 
card.  It  was  the  advertisement  of  a  clothing  house, 
and  on  the  back  was  written  "  P.  B.  Neale,  108  Chest- 
nut Street." 

The  mules  walked  the  half  dozen  blocks  back  to 
the  lumber  yard,  while  my  mind  reviewed  this  conver- 
sation. There  was  a  bit  of  mystery  to  it  which  had 
fascination,  because  of  a  vague  promise  of  adventure. 
Evidently  this  man  Neale  had  need  of  a  stranger  to 
help  him  out  in  some  scheme,  and  had  picked  me  by 
chance  as  being  the  right  party.  Well,  if  the  pay  was 
good,  and  the  purpose  not  criminal,  I  had  no  objections 
to  the  spice  of  danger.  Indeed,  that  was  what  I  loved 
in  life,  my  heart  throbbing  eagerly  in  anticipation.  I 

12 


THE  FIRST  STEP 

was  young,  full-blooded,  strong,  willing  enough  to  take 
desperate  chances  for  sufficient  reward.  There  was  a 
suspicion  in  my  mind  that  all  was  not  straight  —  Neale's 
questions,  and  the  private  signals  to  be  given  at  a  side 
door  left  that  impression  —  yet  I  could  only  wait  and 
learn,  and  besides,  my  conscience  was  not  overly  deli- 
cate. I  had  lived  among  a  rough,  reckless  set,  had 
experienced  enough  of  the  seamy  side  of  life  to  be 
somewhat  careless.  I  would  take  the  chance,  at  least, 
in  hope  of  escape  from  this  routine. 

All  the  rest  of  the  day,  for  this  meeting  had  oc- 
curred early  in  the  afternoon,  I  labored  quietly,  loading 
and  unloading  lumber,  my  muscles  aching  from  a  species 
of  toil  to  which  I  had  not  yet  become  accustomed,  my 
mind  active  in  imagination  over  the  possibilities  of  this 
new  employment.  I  was  not  obliged  to  live  this  sort 
of  life,  but  the  uneasy  spirit  of  adventure  held  me. 
My  father,  from  whom  I  had  not  heard  a  word  in  two 
years,  was  a  prominent  manufacturer  in  a  New  Eng- 
land village.  The  early  death  of  my  mother  had  left 
me  to  his  care  when  I  was  but  ten  years  old,  and  we 
failed  to  understand  each  other,  drifting  apart,  until  a 
final  quarrel  had  sent  me  adrift.  No  doubt  this  was 
more  my  fault  than  his,  although  he  was  so  deeply 
immersed  in  business  that  he  failed  utterly  to  under- 

13 


GORDON  CRAIG 

stand  the  restless  soul  of  a  boy.  I  was  in  my  junior  year 
at  Princeton,  when  the  final  break  came,  over  an  inno- 
cent youthful  escapade,  and,  in  my  pride,  I  never  even 
returned  home  to  explain,  but  disappeared,  drifting  in- 
evitably into  the  underworld,  because  of  lack  of  train- 
ing for  anything  better.  This  all  occurred  four  years 
previous,  three  of  which  had  been  passed  in  the  ranks, 
yet  even  now  I  was  stubbornly  resolved  not  to  return 
unsuccessful.  Perhaps  in  this  new  adventure  I  should 
discover  the  key  with  which  to  unlock  the  door  of  for- 
tune. 

I  possessed  a  fairly  decent  suit  of  clothes,  now 
pressed  and  cleaned  after  the  rough  trip  from  the  coast, 
and  dressed  as  carefully  as  possible  in  the  dingy  room 
of  my  boarding  house.  A  glance  into  the  cracked  mir- 
ror convinced  me,  that,  however  I  might  have  other- 
wise suffered  from  the  years  of  hardship,  I  had  not 
deteriorated  physically.  My  face  was  bronzed  by  the 
sun,  my  muscles  like  iron,  my  eyes  clear,  every  move- 
ment of  my  body  evidencing  strength,  my  features  lean 
and  clean  cut  under  a  head  of  closely  trimmed  hair. 
Satisfied  with  the  inspection,  confident  of  myself,  I 
slipped  the  card  in  my  pocket,  and  went  out.  It  was 
still  daylight,  but  there  was  a  long  walk  before  me. 
Chestnut  Street  was  across  the  river,  in  the  more  aris- 

H 


THE  FIRST  STEP 

tocratic  section.  I  had  hauled  lumber  there  the  first 
day  of  my  work,  and  recalled  its  characteristics  —  long 
rows  of  stone-front  houses,  with  an  occasional  resi- 
dence standing  alone,  set  well  back  from  the  street.  It 
was  dark  enough  when  I  got  there,  and  began  seeking 
the  number.  I  followed  the  block  twice  in  uncertainty, 
so  many  of  the  houses  were  dark,  but  finally  located 
the  one  I  believed  must  be  108.  It  was  slightly  back 
from  the  street,  a  large  stone  mansion,  surrounded  by 
a  low  coping  of  brick  and  with  no  light  showing  any- 
where. I  was  obliged  to  mount  the  front  steps  be- 
fore I  could  assure  myself  this  was  the  place.  The 
street  was  deserted,  except  for  two  men  talking  under 
the  electric  light  at  the  corner,  and  the  only  sound  arose 
from  the  passing  of  a  surface  car  a  block  away.  The 
silence  and  loneliness  got  upon  my  nerves,  but,  without 
yielding,  I  followed  the  narrow  cement  walk  around 
the  corner  of  the  house.  Here  it  was  dark  in  the 
shadow  of  the  wall,  yet  one  window  on  the  first  floor 
exhibited  a  faint  glow  at  the  edge  of  a  closely  drawn 
curtain.  Encouraged  slightly  by  this  proof  that  the 
house  was  indeed  occupied,  I  felt  my  way  forward  until 
I  came  to  some  stone  steps,  and  a  door.  I  rapped  on 
the  wood  three  times,  my  nerves  tingling  from  excite- 
ment. There  was  a  moment's  delay,  so  that  I  lifted 

15 


GORDON  CRAIG 

my  hand  again,  and  then  the  door  opened  silently. 
Within  was  like  the  black  mouth  of  a  cave,  and  I  in- 
voluntarily took  a  step  backward. 

"  This  you,  Craig?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  half  recognizing  the  cautious 
voice. 

"  All  right  then  —  come  in.  There  is  nothing  to 
fear,  the  floor  is  level." 

I  stepped  within,  seeing  nothing  of  the  man,  and 
the  door  was  closed  behind  me.  The  sharp  click  of  the 
latch  convinced  me  it  was  secured  by  a  spring  lock. 

"  Turn  on  the  light,"  said  the  voice  at  my  side 
sharply.  Instantly  an  electric  bulb  glowed  dazzling 
overhead,  and  I  blinked,  about  half  blinded  by  the  sud- 
den change. 


16 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  CASE  OF  PHILIP  HENLEY 

IT  was  a  rather  narrow  hallway  and,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  a  thick  carpet  underfoot,  unfurnished. 
Neale,  appearing  somewhat  more  slender  in  evening 
clothes,  smiled  at  me  genially,  showing  a  gold-crowned 
tooth. 

"  Did  not  chance  to  hear  your  motor,"  he  said  easily, 
taking  a  cigarette  case  from  his  vest  pocket.  "  You 
are  a  little  late;  what  was  it,  tire  trouble?  " 

"  I  came  afoot,"  I  answered,  not  overly-cordial. 
"  It  was  farther  across  town  than  I  supposed." 

"  Well,  you  're  here,  and  that  is  the  main  point. 
Have  a  cigarette.  No?  "  as  I  shook  my  head.  "  All 
right,  there  are  cigars  in  the  room  yonder  —  the  second 
door  to  your  left." 

I  entered  where  he  indicated.  It  was  a  spacious 
apartment,  evidently  a  library  from  the  book-shelves 
along  the  walls,  and  the  great  writing  table  in  the  cen- 
ter. The  high  ceiling,  and  restful  wall  decorations 
were  emphasized  by  all  the  furnishings,  the  soft  rug, 

2  17 


GORDON  CRAIG 

into  which  the  feet  sank  noiselessly,  the  numerous 
leather-upholstered  chairs,  the  luxurious  couch,  and  the 
divan  filling  the  bay-window.  The  only  light  was  under 
a  shaded  globe  on  the  central  table,  leaving  the  main 
apartment  in  shadows,  but  the  windows  had  their  heavy 
curtains  closely  drawn.  The  sole  occupant  was  a  man 
in  evening  dress,  seated  in  a  high-backed  leather  chair, 
facing  the  entrance,  a  small  stand  beside  him,  containing 
a  half-filled  glass,  and  an  open  box  of  cigars.  Smoke  cir- 
cled above  his  head,  his  eyes  upon  me  as  I  entered.  With 
an  indolent  wave  of  one  hand  he  seemingly  invited  me 
to  take  a  vacant  chair  to  the  right,  while  Neale  remained 
standing  near  the  door. 

This  new  position  gave  me  a  better  view  of  his  face, 
but  I  could  not  guess  his  age.  His  was  one  of  those 
old-young  faces,  deeply  lined,  smooth-shaven,  the  hair 
clipped  short,  the  flesh  ashen-gray,  the  lips  a  mere 
straight  slit,  yielding  a  merciless  expression;  but  the 
eyes,  surveying  me  coldly,  were  the  noticeable  feature. 
They  looked  to  be  black,  not  large,  but  deep  set,  and 
with  a  most  peculiar  gleam,  almost  that  of  insanity,  in 
their  intense  stare.  Even  as  he  lounged  back  amid  the 
chair  cushions  I  could  see  that  he  was  tall,  and  a  bit 
angular,  his  hand,  holding  a  cigar,  evidencing  unusual 
strength.  He  must  have  stared  at  me  a  full  minute, 

18 


THE  CASE  OF  PHILIP  HENLEY 

much  as  a  jockey  would  examine  a  horse,  before  he  re- 
sumed smoking. 

"  He  will  do  very  well,  Neale,"  he  decided,  with  a 
glance  across  at  the  other.  "  Possibly  a  trifle  young." 

"  He  has  roughed  it,"  returned  the  other  reassur- 
ingly, "  and  that  means  more  than  years." 

The  first  man  laughed  rather  unpleasantly,  and  emp- 
tied his  glass. 

"  So  I  have  discovered.  Have  a  cigar,  or  a  drink, 
Craig?" 

"  I  will  smoke." 

He  passed  me  the  box,  watching  me  while  I  lighted 
the  perfecto,  Neale  crossing  to  the  divan. 

"  How  old  are  you?  " 

"  Twenty-four." 

"  I  thought  about  that.  What  part  of  the  country 
do  you  hail  from?  "  and  I  noticed  now  a  faint  Southern 
accent  in  the  drawl  of  his  voice. 

"  New  England." 

"  Ever  been  south?  " 

"  Only  as  far  as  St.  Louis.  I  was  at  Jefferson  Bar- 
racks." 

"  Neale  said  you  were  in  the  army  —  full  enlist- 
ment?" 

"  Yes;  discharged  as  corporal." 

19 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  Ah;  what  regiment?  " 

"  Third  Cavalry." 

His  black  eyes  swept  across  toward  Neale,  his  fingers 
drumming  nervously  on  the  leather  arm  of  the  chair. 

"  Exactly;  then  your  service  was  in  Oregon  and  the 
Philippines.  Tramped  some  since,  I  understand  — 
broke?" 

"  No,"  shortly,  not  greatly  enjoying  his  style  of  ques- 
tioning. "  I  Ve  got  three  dollars." 

"  A  magnificent  sum,"  chuckling.  "  However,  the 
point  is,  you  would  be  glad  of  a  job  that  paid  well,  and 
would  n't  mind  if  there  was  a  bit  of  excitement  con- 
nected with  it  —  hey  ?  " 

"  What  is  your  idea  of  paying  well?  " 

"  Expenses  liberally  figured,"  he  replied  slowly, 
"  and  ten  thousand  dollars  for  a  year's  work,  if  done 
right." 

I  half  rose  to  my  feet  in  surprise,  believing  he  was 
making  sport,  but  the  fellow  never  moved  or  smiled. 

"  Sit  down,  man.  This  is  no  pipe  dream,  and  I 
mean  it.  In  fact,  I  am  willing  to  hand  you  half  of  the 
money  down.  That 's  all  right,  Neale,"  he  added  as 
the  other  made  a  gesture  of  dissent.  "  I  know  my  busi- 
ness, and  enough  about  men  to  judge  Craig  here  for 
that  amount.  That  we  are  in  earnest  we  have  got  to 

20 


THE  CASE  OF  PHILIP  HENLEY 

assure  him  someway,  and  money  talks- best.  See  here, 
Craig,"  and  he  leaned  forward,  peering  into  my  face, 
"  you  look  to  me  like  the  right  man  for  what  we  want 
done ;  you  are  young,  strong,  sufficiently  intelligent,  and 
a  natural  fighter.  All  right,  I  'm  sporting  man  enough 
to  bet  five  thousand  on  your  making  good.  If  you 
fail  it  will  be  worse  for  you,  that 's  all.  I  'm  not  a 
good  man  to  double-cross,  see!  All  you  have  got  to 
do  to  earn  your  money  is  obey  orders  strictly,  and  keep 
your  tongue  still.  Do  you  get  that?  " 

I  nodded,  waiting  to  learn  more. 

"  It  may  require  a  year,  but  more  likely  much  less 
time.  That  makes  no  difference  —  it  will  be  ten  thou- 
sand for  you  just  the  same,"  his  voice  had  grown  crisp 
and  sharp.  "  What  do  you  say?  " 

;'  That  the  proposition  looks  good,  only  I  should 
like  to  know  a  little  more  clearly  what  I  am  expected 
to  do." 

"A  bit  squeamish,  hey!  got  a  troublesome  con- 
science ?  " 

"  Not  particularly  —  but  there  is  a  limit." 

He  slowly  lit  a  fresh  cigar,  studying  the  expression 
of  my  face  in  the  light,  as  though  deciding  upon  a  course 
of  action.  Neale  moved  uneasily,  but  made  no  attempt 
to  break  the  silence.  Finally,  with  a  more  noticeable 

21 


GORDON  CRAIG 

drawl  in  his  voice,  the  man  in  the  armchair  began  his 
explanation. 

"  Very  good;  we  '11  come  down  to  facts.  It  will  not 
take  long.  In  the  first  place  my  name  is  Vail  —  Jus- 
tus C.  Vail.  That  may  tell  you  who  I  am?  " 

I  shook  my  head  negatively. 

"No;  well,  I  am  a  lawyer  of  some  reputation  in 
this  State,  and  my  entire  interest  in  this  affair  is  that 
of  legal  adviser  to  Mr.  Neale.  With  this  in  mind  I 
will  state  briefly  the  peculiar  circumstances  wherein  you 
are  involved."  He  checked  the  points  off  carefully 
with  one  hand,  occasionally  glancing  at  a  slip  of  paper 
lying  on  the  table  as  though  to  refresh  his  memory.  I 
listened  intently,  watching  his  face,  and  dimly  conscious 
of  Neale's  restlessness.  "  Here  is  the  case  as  sub- 
mitted to  me:  Judge  Philo  Henley,  formerly  of  the 
United  States  Circuit  Court,  retired  at  sixty-four  and 
settled  upon  a  large  plantation  near  Carrollton,  Ala- 
bama. His  wife  died  soon  after,  and,  a  week  or  so  ago, 
the  Judge  also  departed  this  life,  leaving  an  estate 
valued  in  excess  of  five  hundred  thousand  dollars. 
Philo  Henley  and  wife  had  but  one  child,  now  a  young 
man  of  twenty-five  years,  named  Philip.  As  a  boy  he 
was  wild  and  unmanageable,  and,  finally,  when  about 
twenty  years  old,  some  prank  occurred  of  so  serious  a 

22 


THE  CASE  OF  PHILIP  HENLEY 

nature  that  the  lad  ran  away.  He  came  North,  and 
was  unheard-of  for  some  time,  living  under  an  assumed 
name.  Later  some  slight  correspondence  ensued  be- 
tween father  and  son,  and  the  boy  was  granted  a  reg- 
ular allowance.  The  father  was  a  very  eccentric  man, 
harsh  and  unforgiving,  and,  while  giving  the  boy 
money,  never  extended  an  invitation  to  return  home. 
Consequently  Philip  remained  in  the  North,  and  led  his 
own  life.  He  became  dissipated,  and  a  rounder,  and 
drifted  into  evil  associations.  Finally,  about  six 
months  ago,  he  married  a  girl  in  this  city,  not  of 
wealthy  family,  but  of  respectable  antecedents.  Her 
home,  we  understand,  was  in  Spokane,  and  she  had  an 
engagement  on  the  stage  when  she  first  met  Henley. 
He  married  her  under  his  assumed  name  and  they  be- 
gan housekeeping  in  a  flat  on  the  north  side." 

He  paused  in  his  recital,  took  a  drink,  his  eyes 
turning  toward  Neale;  then  resumed  in  the  same  level 
voice : 

;'  The  Judge  learned  of  this  marriage  in  some  way, 
and  began  to  insist  that  the  son  return  home  with  his 
wife.  Circumstances  prevented,  however,  and  the  visit 
was  deferred.  Meanwhile,  becoming  more  eccentric  as 
he  grew  older,  the  father  discharged  all  his  old  serv- 
ants, and  lived  the  life  of  a  recluse.  When  he  died  sud- 

23 


GORDON  CRAIG 

denly,  and  almost  alone,  he  left  a  will,  probably  drawn 
up  soon  after  he  learned  of  his  son's  wedding,  leaving 
his  property  to  Philip,  providing  the  young  man  re- 
turned, with  his  wife,  to  live  upon  the  estate  within  six 
months;  otherwise  the  entire  estate  should  be  divided 
among  certain  named  charities.  Three  administrators 
were  named,  of  whom  Neale  here  was  one." 

I  glanced  back  at  the  man  referred  to;  he  was  leaning 
forward,  his  elbow  on  his  knees,  and,  catching  my  eyes, 
drew  a  legal-looking  paper  from  his  pocket. 

"  Here  is  a  copy  of  the  will,"  he  said,  "  if  Craig 
cares  to  examine  it." 

"  Not  now,"  I  replied.  "  Let  me  hear  the  entire 
story  first." 

Vail  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  a  cigar  between  his 
lips. 

4  The  administrators,"  he  went  on,  as  though  unin- 
terrupted, and  repeating  a  set  speech,  "  endeavored  to 
locate  young  Henley,  but  failed.  Then  Mr.  Neale  was 
sent  here  to  make  a  personal  search.  He  came  to  me 
for  aid,  and  legal  advice.  Finally  we  found  the  flat 
where  the  young  couple  had  lived.  It  was  deserted, 
and  we  learned  from  neighbors  that  they  had  quar- 
reled, and  the  wife  left  him.  We  have  been  unable 
to  discover  her  whereabouts.  She  did  not  return  to,  or 

24 


THE  CASE  OF  PHILIP  HENLEY 

communicate  with,  her  own  people  in  the  West,  or  with 
any  former  friends  in  this  city.  She  simply  disap- 
peared, and  we  have  some  reason  to  believe  committed 
suicide.  The  body  of  a  young  woman,  fitting  her  gen- 
eral description,  was  taken  from  the  river,  and  buried 
without  identification." 

"  And  young  Henley?  "  I  asked,  as  he  paused. 

"  Henley,"  he  continued  gravely,  "  was  at  last  lo- 
cated, under  an  assumed  name,  as  a  prisoner  in  the  In- 
diana penitentiary  at  Michigan  City,  serving  a  sentence 
of  fourteen  years  for  forgery.  He  positively  refuses 
to  identify  himself  as  Philip  Henley,  and  all  our  efforts 
to  gain  him  a  pardon  have  failed." 

"But  what  have  I  to  do  with  all  this?"  I  ques- 
tioned, beginning  to  have  a  faint  glimmer  of  the  truth. 

"  Wait,  and  I  will  explain  fully.  Don't  interrupt 
until  I  am  done.  Here  was  a  peculiar  situation.  The 
administrators  are  all  old  personal  friends  of  the  testa- 
tor, anxious  to  have  the  estate  retained  in  the  family. 
How  could  this  be  accomplished?  Neale  laid  the  case 
before  me.  I  can  see  but  one  feasible  method  — 
illegal,  to  be  sure,  and  yet  justifiable  under  the  circum- 
stances. Someone  must  impersonate  Philip  Henley 
long  enough  to  permit  the  settlement  of  the  estate." 

I  rose  to  my  feet  indignantly. 

25 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"And  you  thought  I  would  consent?  would  be  a 
party  to  this  fraud?  " 

"  Now,  wait,  Craig,"  as  calmly  as  ever.  "  This  is 
nothing  to  be  ashamed  of,  nor,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  as  a 
lawyer,  does  it  involve  danger.  It  will  make  a  man  of 
Henley,  reunite  him  with  his  wife  if  she  still  lives,  and 
give  him  standing  in  the  world.  Scattered  about  among 
charities  the  Lord  knows  who  it  would  benefit  —  a  lot 
of  beggars  likely.  We  are  merely  helping  the  boy  to 
retain  what  is  rightfully  his.  Don't  throw  this  chance 
away,  hastily  —  ten  thousand  dollars  is  pretty  good  pay 
for  a  couple  of  months'  work." 

I  sank  back  into  my  chair  undecided,  yet  caught  by 
the  glitter  of  the  promise.  Why  not?  Surely,  it 
would  do  no  harm,  and,  if  the  administrators  were  sat- 
isfied, what  cause  had  I  to  object.  They  were  respon- 
sible, and,  if  they  thought  this  the  best  course,  I  might 
just  as  well  take  my  profit.  If  not  they  would  find 
someone  else  who  would. 

"  But  —  but  can  that  be  done  ?  "  I  asked  hesitatingly. 

Vail  smiled,  confident  of  my  yielding. 

"  Easily,"  he  assured.  "  Young  Henley  has  been 
away  five  years;  even  before  that  he  was  absent  at 
school  so  much  as  to  be  practically  unknown  except  to 
the  older  servants.  These  have  all  been  discharged, 

26 


THE  CASE  OF  PHILIP  HENLEY 

and  scattered.  The  wife  is  entirely  unknown  there. 
Anyone,  bearing  ever  so  slight  a  resemblance,  would 
pass  muster.  All  you  need  do  is  read  the  father's  let- 
ters over,  post  yourself  on  a  few  details  and  take  pos- 
session. We  will  attend  to  all  legal  matters." 

"  Then  you  consider  that  I  resemble  Henley?  " 

"  No,"  coolly,  "  not  in  any  remarkable  manner,  but 
sufficient  for  our  purpose  —  age,  size,  general  appear- 
ance answers  very  well;  nose,  eyes  and  hair  are  alike, 
and  general  contour  of  the  face  is  similar.  There  is 
not  likely  to  be  any  close  scrutiny.  Her*  is  young  Hen- 
ley's photograph." 

He  picked  it  up  from  among  the  papers,  and  handed 
it  over  to  me.  There  was  a  resemblance,  recognizable 
now  that  my  attention  had  been  called  to  it,  certain  fea- 
tures being  remarkably  similar,  although  the  face  in  the 
picture  wore  a  hard,  dissipated  look  utterly  at  variance 
with  my  own.  I  glanced  at  the  endorsement  on  the 
back. 

"  He  was  going  to  send  this  photograph  to  his  fa- 
ther." 

'  Yes,  but  never  did.     Apparently  there  is  no  flaw 
in  our  plan." 


27 


CHAPTER  III 

I   ACCEPT   THE    OFFER 

I  DO  not  know  how  others  might  have  looked  upon 
such  a  proposition  as  this,  but  it  never  occurred  to 
me  at  the  time  to  doubt  the  honesty  of  Vail's  statement, 
nor  could  I  perceive  any  great  wrong  in  the  action  so 
calmly  proposed.  This  was  Philip  Henley's  property; 
his  father  undoubtedly  intended  he  should  inherit  it, 
and  the  poor  devil  was  utterly  unable  to  comply  with 
the  terms  of  the  will.  The  very  fact  that  he  possessed 
sufficient  pride  to  part  with  the  inheritance  rather  than 
openly  reveal  his  disgrace,  appealed  strongly.  That 
sort  of  fellow  must  have  a  strain  of  manhood  in  him. 
If  I  could  serve  him,  save  the  property  for  him,  at 
almost  no  danger  to  myself,  and  make  a  tidy  sum  of 
money  doing  it,  why  shouldn't  I  consent?  I  saw  no 
reason  for  refusal.  To  be  sure  the  method  was  not 
lawful,  yet  was  advised  by  a  lawyer,  and  agreed  to  by 
the  administrators.  Besides,  the  keeping  of  a  few  pro- 
miscuous charities  out  of  such  a  gift  did  not  seem  es- 
pecially wrong  —  I  knew  nothing,  cared  nothing  for 

28 


I  ACCEPT  THE  OFFER 

their  loss.  They  were  but  names  of  no  significance. 
Vail,  watching  the  expression  of  my  face  in  the  light, 
seemed  to  divine  my  thoughts. 

"  Evidently  you  are  recovering  your  good  sense,"  he 
remarked  easily.  "  There  is  no  use  acting  like  a  fool 
in  a  matter  of  this  kind.  You  are  lucky  to  fall  into 
such  a  chance.  You  '11  act,  I  take  it?  " 

"  Yes,"  the  word  was  out  almost  before  I  was  aware 
of  speaking. 

"  Sensible  decision,  my  man,"  his  face  lighting  up. 
"  Now  there  is  no  need  of  our  meeting  again,  or  being 
seen  together.  The  more  quiet  we  can  keep  our  plans, 
the  better  it  will  be  for  all  concerned.  Neale,  hand 
Craig  your  copy  of  the  articles  of  administration,  and  of 
the  will." 

I  took  these  and  read  them  over  carefully,  yet  with- 
out fully  comprehending  the  legal  phraseology.  They 
were  apparently  genuine,  and  I  gathered  from  them  that 
the  facts  were  exactly  as  stated.  Peter  B.  Neale,  of 
Birmingham,  was  named  one  of  the  administrators. 
The  two  men  watched  me  read,  and  when  I  laid  the 
papers  down  Vail  was  ready  with  others. 

"  Here  is  a  small  packet  of  letters  from  Judge  Hen- 
ley to  his  son,"  he  said,  in  a  business-like  way,  "  which 
you  had  better  read,  and  so  familiarize  yourself  with 

29 


GORDON  CRAIG 

local  names,  and  conditions.  I  have  also  drawn  up, 
and  had  typed,  a  brief  sketch  of  young  Henley's  life, 
which  will  aid  you  in  playing  the  part.  You  will  need 
a  new  outfit  of  clothes,  I  presume?" 

'  This  is  my  best  suit." 

"  I  thought  it  probable.  Now,  if  you  will  sign  this 
paper,  I  will  hand  you  a  liberal  advance." 

I  read  it  over  slowly,  but  it  appeared  innocent 
enough.  Of  course  they  would  require  some  guarantee 
that  my  work  would  be  performed.  Yet  certain  ques- 
tions arose  to  my  mind. 

"  As  soon  as  the  property  is  legally  in  my  possession 
I  am  to  deed  it  over  to  you?  " 

"  Certainly;  I  represent  the  administrators,  and  the 
rightful  heir." 

"  That  will  involve  forgery  on  my  part." 

He  waved  his  hand,  as  though  brushing  away  an  in- 
sect. 

''Technically,  yes;  but  under  legal  advice,  my  dear 
boy,  and  agreement  of  the  officials  interested  in  proper 
settlement  of  the  estate.  There  is  no  danger  what- 
ever." 

I  was  not  assured  as  to  this,  and  yet  the  man's  easy 
manner,  and  smooth  speech,  served  to  ease  my  con- 
science. 

30 


I  read  it  over  slowly,  but  it  appeared  innocent  enough 


"  And  the  ten  thousand  dollars?  "  I  asked. 

"A  thousand  will  be  handed  you  tonight;  the  re- 
mainder may  be  retained  at  the  final  settlement,  to- 
gether with  the  compensation  of  the  woman.  You 
make  your  own  terms  with  her;  so  you  see  you  cannot 
lose.  Sign  here." 

"  I  had  forgotten  the  woman.     Is  she  necessary?  " 

"  It  will  be  better  to  have  one,  as  they  know  down 
there  young  Henley  was  lately  married.  Any  good- 
looker,  with  an  easy  conscience,  will  do.  You  could 
coach  her  on  the  train." 

"  But  I  don't  know  a  young  woman  in  town,"  I  ad- 
mitted soberly,  "  except  my  landlady's  daughter,  and 
she  's  the  limit." 

Vail  and  Neale  both  laughed. 

"  You  're  slow,  Craig,"  the  former  said  good-hu- 
moredly.  "  I  thought  better  of  you  than  that.  How- 
ever, you  will  have  all  day  tomorrow.  Get  on  your 
new  clothes,  and  look  around.  There  's  plenty  would 
jump  at  the  chance." 

I  shook  my  head. 

;l  That 's  altogether  out  of  my  line,"  I  averred. 
"  I  'd  rather  go  alone." 

"  Well,  we  '11  not  war  over  that.  You  can  leave 
your  wife  North  if  you  wish.  I  tell  you  what  you  do. 

31 


GORDON  CRAIG 

Think  it  over,  and  call  me  up  by  'phone  about  three 
o'clock  tomorrow  —  here's  the  number.  If  you  de- 
cide on  taking  a  woman  along  I  know  one  who  will  an- 
swer, and  will  have  her  at  the  train." 

"  I  am  to  leave  then  tomorrow  night?  " 

"  Yes,  over  the  Eastern  Illinois,  at  8:10." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence;  then  he  rustled  the 
paper  on  the  table,  and  held  out  a  fountain  pen. 

"  Sign  here." 

I  was  not  hypnotized,  or  unduly  controlled;  my  mind 
seemed  clear,  but  I  yielded  without  a  word  and  wrote 
my  name  at  the  bottom  of  the  sheet.  Vail  blotted  it 
carefully,  folded  the  paper,  and  placed  it  in  a  drawer 
of  the  table.  Then  he  handed  me  two  bills. 

"  There  is  a  thousand  dollars  there,  Craig,  and  I  will 
send  you  a  typewritten  memoranda  of  instructions,  cov- 
ering all  points  in  the  game.  Where  can  I  be  sure  of 
finding  you  at  three  o'clock  tomorrow?  " 

"  At  407  Green  Street." 

"All  right;  as  soon  as  you  read  those  instructions 
call  me  up  by  'phone,  and  let  me  know  what  you  have 
done  regarding  a  woman,  and  ask  any  questions  you 
may  desire.  That  will  be  all  now.  Neale,  you  might 
show  Craig  the  way  out." 

He  put  out  his  arm,  and  we  shook  hands,  although 

32 


I  ACCEPT  THE  OFFER 

he  did  not  arise  from  the  chair.  It  had  all  been  ac- 
complished so  suddenly  that  I  felt  confused,  uncertain 
as  to  what  I  had  best  do.  Only  the  feel  of  those  bills 
in  my  pocket  seemed  real,  and  made  me  fully  aware 
that  I  was  pledged  to  the  service.  Neale  stepped  into 
the  hall,  and  I  followed  him.  The  entry  way  was  in 
darkness,  and  the  man  went  to  the  side  door  without 
switching  on  the  light. 

"Is  this  Mr.  Vail's  house?"  I  questioned,  and  he 
drew  the  latch. 

"  Yes,  and,  by  the  way,  it  will  be  as  well  for  you  to 
go  out  cautiously,  and  not  be  seen.  We  want  to  play 
safe,  you  know." 

The  door  opened  and  closed,  leaving  me  ,/utside  in 
the  house  shadow. 


33 


CHAPTER  IV 

AN   ESCAPE    FROM   ARREST 

IT  was  then  that  the  power  of  thought  returned  to 
me.  However  glibly  those  two  conspirators  might 
gild  over  the  affair  it  nevertheless  was  a  criminal  matter 
to  which  I  had  blindly  committed  myself.  Neale's  part- 
ing words  of  warning  alone  made  that  clearly  evident. 
They  understood  the  risk  of  discovery,  and  now  I  also 
comprehended  it  with  equal  clearness.  Fraud  and  for- 
gery were  Contemplated,  had  been  coolly  planned,  and  it 
occurred  to  me  that  I  was  the  one  selected  for  sacrifice 
in  case  of  discovery.  Vail  and  Neale  were  probably 
safe  enough,  as  it  would  be  easy  for  them  to  deny  any 
participation,  but  they  had  me  bound  fast.  However, 
I  had  no  thought  of  withdrawal  from  the  contract,  for, 
while  I  saw  the  danger  involved,  and  realized  the  ille- 
gality, yet  I  failed  utterly  to  perceive  any  real  evil.  I 
did  not  doubt  the  truth  of  all  that  had  been  told  me, 
and  was  willing  to  assume  the  risk.  I  fingered  the  crisp 
bills  in  my  pocket,  and  the  words  "  ten  thousand  dol- 
lars "  kept  repeating  themselves  over  and  over.  Of 

34 


AN  ESCAPE  FROM  ARREST 

course  I  would  do  it;  I  should  be  a  fool  not  to.  It 
would  be  "  easy  money,"  and  my  earning  it  could  harm 
no  one. 

Not  a  glimmer  of  light  appeared  from  within  the  house 
I  had  just  left,  and  I  drew  my  cap  down  over  my  eyes, 
and  stared  about,  listening.  The  hour  could  not  be 
far  from  midnight,  the  night  dark,  the  air  heavy  with 
mist.  Glancing  out  between  the  houses  I  caught  a 
glimpse  of  asphalt  pavement  glistening  with  moisture, 
and  the  distant  electric  light  above  the  street  intersec- 
tion appeared  blurred  and  yellow.  Here,  in  the  heart 
of  the  residential  district,  the  last  belated  cab  had  al- 
ready drifted  by,  leaving  the  silence  profound,  the  lone- 
liness complete.  Two  blocks  away  a  trolley-car  swept 
past,  an  odd,  violet  light  playing  along  the  wire,  gro- 
tesque shadows  showing  briefly  amid  the  enveloping 
folds  of  vapor.  The  discordant  clang  of  the  gong 
died  away  into  the  far  distance.  Crouching  there  in 
the  shade  of  the  wall  I  felt  like  a  criminal.  Then, 
angry  at  myself,  I  advanced  slowly  forward,  yet  keep- 
ing well  under  cover. 

The  light  fell  slanting  across  the  stone  steps  in  front, 
and  revealed  a  narrow  opening  through  the  brick 
coping  beyond.  I  must  pass  that  way  in  reaching  the 
street,  but  hesitated  to  go  forward  boldly.  I  could  see 

35 


GORDON  CRAIG 

only  a  few  feet  in  any  direction,  as  the  fog  was  thicken- 
ing, driving  along  the  soaked  pavement  in  dense  gray 
clouds,  already  beginning  to  blot  from  view  the  houses 
opposite.  Another  trolley-car,  dismally  clanging  its 
gong,  paused  a  moment  at  some  near-by  corner,  and 
then  passed  noisily  on.  The  way  seemed  clear,  the 
street  utterly  deserted,  and,  nerving  myself  to  the  effort, 
I  crept  cautiously  forward,  until  I  crouched  behind  the 
brick  coping.  There  was  not  a  disturbing  sound,  and  I 
straightened  up,  essaying  the  first  quick  step  forth  into 
the  full  gleam  of  the  light.  Like  some  confronting 
ghost,  scarcely  more  real  than  a  phantom  of  imagina- 
tion, I  came  face  to  face  with  a  woman. 

She  had  turned  swiftly  into  the  narrow  gateway  lead- 
ing through  the  brick  coping,  hurrying  silently  as  if 
pursued,  her  foot  barely  planted  upon  the  step  when 
we  met.  I  stopped,  speechless,  rigid,  my  outstretched 
hand  gripping  the  rail,  but  the  woman  drew  hastily 
back,  her  lips  parted  in  a  sudden  sob  of  surprise,  one 
hand  flung  out  as  if  in  self-protection.  It  was  instan- 
taneous, yet  before  either  could  move  otherwise,  or 
utter  a  word  of  explanation,  a  heavy  footfall  crunched 
along  the  walk,  and  a  burly  police  officer,  his  star  gleam- 
ing ominously  in  the  dull  light,  rounded  the  corner  a 
dozen  feet  away.  Neither  of  us  stirred,  staring  into 

36 


AN  ESCAPE  FROM  ARREST 

each  other's  bewildered  faces,  and  before  either  fully 
realized  the  situation,  the  strong,  suspicious  hand  of  the 
law  had  gripped  my  shoulder. 

"  Here,  now,  an'  what  the  hell  are  ye  oop  too,  me 
fine  buck?  "  he  questioned  roughly,  swinging  me  about 
into  the  light.  "  Give  an  account  o'  yer-self  moighty 
quick,  'er  I  '11  run  ye  in." 

Startled,  recalling  the  money  hidden  in  my  pocket, 
the  last  injunction  of  Neale,  I  could  think  of  no  excuse, 
no  explanation.  The  girl,  still  staring  blankly  at  me, 
must  have  perceived  how  I  instinctively  shrank  back,  my 
lips  moving  in  an  impotent  effort  at  speech.  Some  sud- 
den impulse  changed  her  fright  into  sympathy.  How- 
ever it  was  the  officer  who  impatiently  broke  the  silence, 
swinging  his  night  stick  menacingly: 

"  Come  on  now,  me  lad,  hav'  ye  lost  yer  voice  en- 
toirely?  Spake  oop  loively  —  whut  ther  hell  are  the 
two  ov'  yer  oop  to,  onyhow?  " 

She  started  forward,  just  a  step. 

"  Nothing  in  the  least  wrong,  officer,"  her  voice  trem- 
bling slightly,  yet  sounding  clearly  distinct.  "  He  — 
he  was  merely  accompanying  me  home  from  a  dance." 

"Whut  dance?" 

"  Over  —  over  there  on  43rd  Street." 

"  An'  do  yer  live  here?  "  the  gruff  tone  still  vibrant 

37 


GORDON  CRAIG 

with  suspicion.  "  Fer  if  ye  do,  yer  're  sure  a  new  gurl," 
and  he  peered  at  her  shadowed  face  in  the  dim  light. 
She  drew  in  her  breath  sharply. 

"  No,"  her  voice  steadying,  now  she  realized  she 
must  carry  out  the  deception.  "  My  pla^e  is  three 
blocks  y(  t,  around  the  next  corner.' 

"  Thet  'sap  utty  thin  story,  Miss.  Then  whut  wus 
the  two  ov'  yer  doin'  in  here  ?  " 

She  clutched  the  brick  coping  with  one  hand,  never 
glancing  toward  me,  her  eyes  fixed  imploringly  on  the 
glistening  face  of  the  questioning  policeman.  Yet  she 
responded  instantly  with  the  quick  wit  of  a  clever 
woman. 

"  I  had  my  foot  on  the  step,  tying  my  shoe,"  she  ex- 
plained simply.  "  You  don't  arrest  people  for  that,  do 
you?" 

It  was  plain  enough  the  officer  was  puzzled,  yet  he 
reluctantly  released  his  grip  on  my  arm,  boring  the  end 
of  his  club  into  the  brick  wall. 

"  It 's  half  Oi'  belave  yer  stringin'  me  roight  now," 
he  announced  doubtfully,  "  but  Oi  '11  give  yer  ther  ben- 
efit ov'  the  doubt;  only  the  two  ov'  yer  better  kape  on 
a-goin'  till  yer  git  under  cover.  Don't  let  me  run 
across  yer  along  this  beat  agin  ternight.  Be  gory  av 

38 


yer  do,  Oi  '11  let  yer  explain  to  ther  sargint  over  at  ther 
station.  Go  on  now!  " 

I  felt  her  hand  touch  my  sleeve  timidly,  and  caught 
a  swift  glimpse  of  her  eyes.  We  must  carry  out  tl.e 
deception  now,  and  go  away  together.  There  was  no 
other  choice.  The  policeman  stared  after  us  through 
the  mist,  rolling  his  night  stick  in  his  hand.  I  heard  him 
mutter  to  himself: 

"  It 's  a  rum  go  o'  sum  koind.  Thet  guy  ain't  dressed 
fer  no  dance.  But,  dom  me,  if  she  's  the  koind  o' 
female  ter  run  in  aither.  Lord,  but  she  's  got  a  foine 
pair  o'  eyes  in  the  face  ov'  her." 

Close  together,  without  venturing  to  speak  or  glance 
around,  we  walked  forward  into  the  enveloping  mist. 
Her  fingers,  for  appearances'  sake,  barely  touched  the 
rough  cloth  of  my  sleeve.  All  this  had  occurred  so 
swiftly,  so  suddenly,  that  I  was  yet  bewildered,  unable 
to  decide  on  a  course  of  action.  The  girl,  I  noticed, 
was  breathing  heavily  from  excitement,  her  eyes  cast 
down  upon  the  wet  pavement.  Once,  beneath  the  glow 
of  the  lamp  at  the  first  corner,  I  ventured  to  glance  slyly 
aside  at  her,  in  curiosity,  mentally  photographing  the 
clear  outline  of  her  features,  the  strands  of  light  brown 
hair  straggling  rebelliously  from  beneath  the  wide  brim 

39 


GORDON  CRAIG 

of  the  hat.  I  was  of  rather  reckless  nature,  careless,  and 
indifferent  in  my  relationship  with  women.  A  bit  of 
audacious  speech  trembled  on  my  lips,  but  remained  un- 
uttered.  My  earlier  conception  that  she  was  a  woman 
of  the  street  died  within  me.  There  was  more  than  a 
mere  hint  of  character  about  that  resolute  mouth,  the 
white  contour  of  cheek.  She  glanced  furtively  back 
across  her  shoulder  —  evidently  the  policeman  had  dis- 
appeared, for  she  released  her  slight  grasp  of  my  arm, 
although  continuing  to  walk  quietly  enough  by  my  side, 
her  face  partially  averted.  The  night  was  deathly  still, 
the  sodden  walk  underfoot  scarcely  echoing  our  foot- 
falls, the  weird  mist  closing  denser  about  us,  as  we  ad- 
vanced. 

At  the  second  street  intersection  she  turned  east,  ad- 
vancing toward  where  passing  trolley-cars  promised 
some  life  and  activity  even  at  that  late  hour.  Helpless 
to  do  otherwise  I  moved  along  with  her  in  the  same 
direction,  our  grotesque  shadows  dimly  discernible  be- 
neath the  yellow  mist  of  light.  Impulsively  she 
stopped,  and  faced  me,  her  hands  clasped. 

u  I  —  I  —  please  —  I  will  say  good  night,  now,"  she 
said,  endeavoring  to  speak  firmly,  yet  with  no  uplifting 
of  the  eyes. 

40 


AN  ESCAPE  FROM  ARREST 

Hesitatingly  I  stood  still,  feeling  strangely  embar- 
rassed by  this  sudden  curt  dismissal. 

"  Do  —  do  you  mean  you  wish  me  to  leave  you  alone 
on  the  street  at  this  hour?  "  I  questioned  uneasily.  "  At 
least  permit  me  to  see  you  home  safely.  I  will  not 
hurt  you,  or  speak  a  word." 

There  was  a  tone  of  earnestness  in  my  plea  but  she 
only  shook  her  head  decisively,  lips  pressed  close  to- 
gether. The  faint  glow  of  the  overhead  light  rested 
on  the  slightly  uplifted  face,  and  the  sight  of  her  fea- 
tures yielded  me  fresh  confidence. 

"  You  have  no  cause  to  feel  afraid  of  me,"  I  went  on 
soberly,  in  the  silence.  "  Can't  you  tell  that  by  my 
face?  "  and  I  removed  my  cap,  standing  before  her  un- 
covered. She  lifted  her  lashes,  startled  and  curious, 
gazing  at  me  for  the  first  time.  I  met  her  glance  fairly, 
and  the  slight  resentment  in  her  eyes  faded,  her  clasped 
hands  moving  uneasily. 

"I  —  I  am  not  afraid  of  —  of  you,"  she  returned 
at  last  doubtfully.  "  It  is  not  that,  but  —  but  really 
I  cannot  permit  you  to  accompany  me  farther." 

"  Only  to  the  place  where  you  said  you  lived,"  I 
urged  eagerly.  "  I  promise  not  even  to  take  note  of 
the  number,  and  will  never  bother  you  any  more." 

41 


GORDON  CRAIG 

Her  fine  eyes  hardened;  then  sank  slowly  before 
mine. 

"That  —  that  was  a  lie  also,"  she  acknowledged, 
hnlf  defiantly.  "I  —  I  do  not  live  about  here." 

I  stared  at  her  in  sudden  doubt,  yet  remained  loyal 
to  my  first  impression. 

"  All  the  greater  reason  then  for  not  leaving  you  here 
alone." 

She  laughed,  a  faint  tinge  of  bitterness  in  the  sound. 

"  Surely  you  cannot  imagine  I  would  feel  any  safer 
in  company  with  a  burglar?  "  she  asked  sharply.  My 
face  flushed. 

"  Why  accuse  me  of  that? "  I  asked  quickly. 
"  Merely  because  I  was  in  that  yard?  " 

She  drew  back  a  step,  one  hand  grasping  her  skirt. 

"  Not  altogether.  You  were  hiding  there,  and  — 
and  you  were  afraid  of  the  policeman." 

I  could  not  explain;  it  would  require  too  long,  and 
she  would  in  all  probability  refuse  to  believe  the  story. 
Besides,  what  difference  could  it  make?  She  had  as 
much  to  explain  as  I ;  no  more  reason  to  suspect  me  than 
I  had  her.  Let  us  meet  then  on  common  ground. 

"  If  I  grant  your  hasty  guess  to  be  partially  correct," 
I  returned  finally,  my  voice  deepening  with  earnestness, 
"  and  confess  I  was  avoiding  observation  —  what  then? 

42 


Can  you  not  also  believe  me  a  man  capable  of  treating 
you  honorably?  Is  it  totally  impossible  for  you  to  con- 
ceive of  circumstances  so  compelling,  as  to  cause  one 
to  avoid  the  police,  and  yet  involve  no  real  loss  of  man- 
hood?" 

She  bowed  her  head  slightly,  lowering  her  eyes  before 
mine.  My  earnestness,  my  apparent  education,  were 
clearly  a  surprise. 

"  Yes,"  she  confessed  reluctantly  enough.  "I  —  I 
believe  I  can.  There  was  a  time  when  I  could  not,  but 
I  can  now." 

"  Then  yield  me  the  benefit  of  such  charity  of  judg- 
ment," I  went  on.  "  At  least  do  not  altogether  con- 
demn me  on  mere  circumstantial  evidence,  and  before 
you  learn  what  has  led  up  to  the  events  of  the  night. 
At  least  give  me  opportunity  to  exhibit  my  gratitude." 

She  remained  silent,  motionless. 

"  Why  not?  Is  it  because  you  have  no  confidence  in 
me?  "  I  insisted. 

She  put  out  one  hand,  grasping  the  iron  rail  of  a 
fence,  and  I  thought  I  could  see  her  form  tremble. 

"  Oh,  no!  it  —  it  is  not  that  exactly,"  she  explained 
brokenly.  "  I  believe  I  —  I  might  trust  you,  but  — 
but  of  course  I  do  not  know.  I  think  you  —  you  mean 
well;  your  words  sound  honest,  and  your — -your  face 

43 


GORDON  CRAIG 

inspires  confidence.  Only  I  have  found  so  much  de- 
ceit, so  much  cruelty  and  heartlessness  in  the  world  I 
have  become  afraid  of  everyone.  But  I  —  I  simply 
cannot  let  you  go  with  me  —  oh !  please  don't  urge  it  1  " 

I  leaned  forward,  my  face  full  of  sympathy,  my  voice 
low  and  earnest. 

"  And  do  you  suppose  I  will  consent  to  desert  you 
after  that  confession  ?  "  I  questioned,  almost  indignant 
"  I  would  be  a  brute  to  do  so.  You  saved  me  from  ar- 
rest just  now;  for  me  to  have  been  taken  to  the  station 
house  and  searched  would  have  put  me  in  a  bad  hole. 
It  was  your  wit  that  saved  me,  and  now  I  am  going  to 
stay  and  help  you.  I  '11  not  leave  you  alone  here  in  the 
street  at  this  hour  of  the  night." 

She  looked  at  me,  her  eyes  wide  open,  shining  like 
stars,  her  face  picturing  perplexity,  not  unmixed  with 
fear,  one  hand  yet  gripping  the  supporting  rail,  the  other 
pressed  against  her  forehead. 

"  Oh,  but  you  must!  indeed,  you  must!  "  the  words 
scarcely  more  than  sobs.  "I  —  I  have  no  place  to 
go!" 


44 


CHAPTER  V 

BEGINNING  ACQUAINTANCE 

I  DREW  in  my  breath  sharply,  my  lips  set  in  a 
"straight  line.  Already  had  I  half-suspicioned  this 
truth,  and  yet  there  was  that  about  the  girl  —  her  man- 
ner, her  words,  even  her  dress  —  which  would  not  per- 
mit me  to  class  her  among  the  homeless,  the  city  out- 
casts. 

"  You  mean  that  you  are  actually  upon  the  streets, 
with  —  with  no  place  to  go?  " 

She  did  not  answer,  her  head  bowed,  her  face  sud- 
denly showing  white  and  haggard.  I  stared  at  her  with 
swift  realization. 

"  My  God,  girl !  and  —  and  I  actually  believe  you  are 
hungry !  " 

Her  eyes  uplifted  to  my  face  dumb  with  agony,  her 
hand  grasp  upon  the  rail  tightening.  Then  she  pitifully 
endeavored  to  smile. 

"I  —  I  am  afraid  I  am,  just  a  little."  She  ac- 
knowledged slowly,  as  though  the  words  were  wrung 
out  of  her. 

45 


GORDON  CRAIG 

I  straightened  up,  with  shoulders  flung  back.  All 
that  was  strong,  determined  in  my  nature,  came  leaping 
to  the  surface.  It  was  my  time  to  act. 

"  Then  that  settles  it.  You  are  coming  with  me. 
No!  don't  shake  your  head;  I  shall  have  my  way  this 
time.  There  is  a  respectable  all-night  place  over  there 
on  Desmet  Street.  I  ate  there  once  a  week  ago.  We  '11 
go  together." 

She  drew  back,  still  clinging  helplessly  to  the  rail, 
her  eyes  on  my  face. 

"  Oh !  you  must  not  —  I  — " 

My  hand  touched  her  arm. 

"  Yes,  but  I  shall,"  I  insisted,  almost  £  srnly. 
"  Good  Heavens,  do  you  suppose  I  will  leave  you  here 
on  the  street  hungry?  I  'd  never  rest  easy  another 
night  as  long  as  I  lived.  You  are  going  with  me." 

Feeling  my  determination  she  made  no  further  re- 
sistance, and  I  half  supported  her  as  we  moved  slowly 
forward  through  the  mist,  her  face  turned  away,  her 
arm  trembling  beneath  the  firm  clasp  of  my  fingers.  As 
we  advanced  I  became  conscious  that  my  own  position 
was  an  awkward  one.  I  had  no  money  of  my  own  with 
me  —  not  a  cent  other  than  those  two  five-hundred  dol- 
lar bills  handed  me  by  Vail.  The  uselessness  of  at- 
tempting to  pass  one  of  these  was  apparent;  it  would  be 

46 


BEGINNING  ACQUAINTANCE 

better  to  plead  lack  of  cash,  and  put  up  some  security 
if  the  man  in  charge  refused  credit.  At  whatever  cost 
the  girl  must  have  food. 

It  was  much  brighter  on  Desmet  Street,  numerous 
electric  signs,  advertising  various  places  of  business, 
even  at  this  late  hour,  continuing  to  exhibit  their  ro- 
tating colors,  while  not  a  few  of  the  shop  windows  re- 
mained brilliantly  illuminated.  Occasionally  a  belated 
pedestrian  passed,  while  trolley-cars  clanged  their  way 
through  the  fog,  approaching  and  vanishing  in  a  purple 
haze.  Three  doors  around  the  corner  was  the  all-night 
restaurant,  through  the  glass  front  revealing  a  lunch 
counter,  and  a  number  of  cloth-draped  tables  awaiting 
occupants.  A  few  of  these  were  in  use,  a  single  waiter 
catering  to  the  guests;  a  woman  was  scrubbing  the  floor 
under  the  cigar  stand,  while  a  round-faced,  rather 
genial-looking  young  fellow,  stood,  leaning  negligently 
against  the  cashier's  desk.  Rather  doubtfully  I 
glanced  uneasily  up  and  down  the  deserted  street,  and 
then  aside  into  the  still  averted  face  of  my  chance  com- 
panion. I  had  no  desire  she  should  comprehend  my 
dilemma. 

'*  Would  you  mind  waiting  out  here  on  the  step  a 
moment?"  I  questioned  awkwardly,  attempting  to  ex- 
plain. "  Only  until  I  make  sure  who  are  inside.  There 

47 


GORDON  CRAIG 

are  some  fellows  I  am  not  friendly  with,  and  I  am  not 
hunting  a  rough  house  with  a  girl  to  look  after.  You 
won't  care  for  just  a  minute,  will  you?  " 

"  No,"  wearily,  "  I  won't  mind." 

"  You  '11  promise  not  to  go  away?  " 

She  shook  her  head,  her  eyes  staring  dully  into  the 
mist. 

"  No;  I  won't  go  away.     Where  could  I  go?  " 

Scarcely  satisfied,  yet  feeling  obliged  to  take  the 
chance,  I  stepped  within,  and  advanced  across  the  room 
toward  the  man  at  the  cashier's  desk.  He  glanced  up 
curiously  as  I  approached,  and  spoke  low,  so  as  not  to 
attract  the  attention  of  others. 

"  Pardner,  is  my  credit  good  for  two  meals?"  I 
asked  genially.  "  I  guess  you  Ve  seen  me  in  here 
before  —  I  drive  for  the  Wooster  Lumber  Company." 
A  night  cashier  in  that  neighborhood  becomes  early 
habituated  to  tales  of  hard  luck.  It  requires  but  a  few 
lessons  to  render  suspicion  paramount.  The  round- 
faced  man,  all  geniality  vanished,  stared  directly  into 
my  face. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  Ve  seen  you  before,  I  reckon,"  he  ac- 
knowledged noncommitally.  "  But  that  does  n't  neces- 
sarily mean  we  are  ready  to  do  a  credit  business.  Been 
fired?" 

48 


BEGINNING  ACQUAINTANCE 

"  No;  just  happen  to  be  short  of  cash,  and  need  to 
eat.  I  '11  hand  it  to  you  tomorrow." 

"  I  Ve  heard  that  song  before.  I  reckon  you  '11  have 
to  try  your  luck  somewhere  else,  unless  you  Ve  got  the 
price." 

"  That 's  the  last  word,  is  it?  " 

"  Sure  thing,"  indifferently.     "  Nothing  doing." 

Realizing  the  utter  uselessness  of  argument,  or  of 
exhibiting  my  large  bills,  I  reached  inside  my  coat,  un- 
pinned, and  held  before  him  on  the  desk  a  bronze 
medal,  fastened  to  a  colored  ribbon. 

"Well,  is  this  good  for  the  price?"  I  questioned. 
"  There  's  two  of  us." 

The  round-faced  cashier  bent  forward  to  look,  his 
eyes  widening  with  aroused  interest.  Then  he  glanced 
up  inquiringly  into  my  face. 

"  Yours?  "  he  asked  in  open  suspicion. 

"  Ought  to  be;  cost  me  a  Mauser  bullet,  a  dozen  bolo 
cuts,  and  eight  weeks'  hospital." 

The  cashier  was  visibly  impressed,  turning  the  medal 
over  in  his  hands. 

"So!     Where  was  all  this?" 

"  Down  in  a  rice  paddy;  place  called  Baliancan." 

"What  regiment?" 

"  Third  Cavalry." 

*  49 


GORDON  CRAIG 

The  cashier's  black  eyes  flashed,  and  he  extended  a 
cordial  hand. 

"  Put  her  there,  Amigo,"  he  broke  forth  warmly. 
"Lord!  but  maybe  I  don't  remember!  Say,  but  you 
fellows  were  a  husky  lot  o'  bucks.  Knew  ye?  I 
rather  guess  I  did.  I  was  bunkin'  then  with  the  First 
Nebraska.  Sure,  I  '11  stand  ye  for  the  meal.  Put 
back  yer  plaything,  and  bring  in  yer  pardner  —  this 
spread  is  on  the  house.  The  Third  Cavalry  has  di- 
vided chuck  with  me  mor'n  once,  an'  I  ain't  goin'  back 
on  one  of  the  boys  for  the  price  of  a  meal." 

Our  hands  met,  clasped  closely  lying  across  the 
desk,  our  eyes  glowing  with  suddenly  aroused  mem- 
ories of  comradeship  in  a  foreign  land.  Then  I 
repinned  the  medal  to  the  front  of  my  rough  shirt, 
gulping  a  bit  as  I  strove  to  speak  calmly. 

"  It 's  a  woman,"  I  explained,  nodding  toward  the 
door.  "  I  found  her  out  there  hungry.  Could  we 
have  that  table  yonder  behind  the  screen?  " 

"  Sure;  and  don't  be  afraid  to  order  the  best  in  the 
house.  Damn  me,  but  that  was  some  fight  we  had  at 
Baliancan,  even  if  the  history  folks  don't  say  much  about 
it.  I  can  see  you  Third  Cavalry  fellows  goin'  in  now, 
up  to  yer  waists  in  water,  an'  we  wa'nt  mor'n  a  hun- 

50 


BEGINNING  ACQUAINTANCE 

dred  feet  behind.  Did  you  see  them  Filipino  trenches 
after  we  took  'em?  " 

I  shook  my  head. 

"  No;  I  was  down  and  out  long  before  then." 

"  Hell  of  a  sight,  believe  me  —  jammed  full  o'  little 
brown  men,  deader  than  door  nails.  They  died  a  fight- 
ing, all  right,  an'  they  sure  gave  us  a  belly  full  that  day. 
Lost  sixteen  out  o'  my  company." 

Our  eyes  lingered  an  instant  on  each  other's  faces; 
then  I  turned  away,  and  walked  to  the  door.  She  was 
waiting  motionless,  her  back  to  the  window,  and,  when 
I  spoke,  followed  me  in  without  a  word.  I  led  the  way 
to  the  secluded  table  behind  the  screen,  seated  her,  and 
took  the  chair  opposite.  Without  questioning  her 
wishes  I  ordered  for  both,  the  girl  sitting  in  silence,  her 
face  bent  low  over  the  menu  card,  a  red  flush  on  either 
cheek.  Still  obsessed  with  vague  suspicion  of  her  char- 
acter I  could  not  forbear  a  suggestion. 

"What  will  you  have  to  drink?"  I  asked,  as  the 
waiter  turned  aside.  "  I  'd  rather  like  a  cocktail  to 
drive  the  wet  out  of  my  system.  Shall  I  make  it  two  ?  " 

She  glanced  up  quickly  from  under  shading  lashes, 
her  eyes,  big  and  brown,  meeting  my  own. 

"  I  prefer  coffee;  that  will  be  quite  sufficient." 


GORDON  CRAIG 

I  ran  my  hand  through  my  hair. 

"  Don't  you  ever  drink  anything  stronger?  "  I  asked, 
almost  tempted  to  apologize.  "  You  know  lots  of 
women  do." 

"  I  have  never  formed  the  habit." 

"Cocktail  for  you,  sir?"  said  the  waiter  briskly, 
flipping  his  towel  on  the  table.  "  Martini,  or  Manhat- 
tan?" 

I  dropped  my  gaze  from  the  girl's  face  to  the  menu 
card.  It  seemed  to  me  her  eyes  had  pleaded  with  me. 

"  No ;  make  mine  coffee  too,"  I  replied  gravely,  "  and 
hurry  the  cook  up,  will  you." 

We  sat  there  waiting  without  further  speech,  she 
nervously  fingering  the  card,  her  eyes  veiled  by  lowered 
lashes.  I  glanced  cautiously  across  at  her,  conscious  of 
my  cheap  clothing,  and  vaguely  wondering  why  my  usual 
off-hand  address  had  so  suddenly  failed.  I  felt  em- 
barrassed, unable  to  break  the  silence  by  any  sensible 
utterance.  My  eyes  rested  upon  her  hands,  white,  slen- 
der, ringless.  They  were  hands  of  refinement,  and  my 
gaze,  fascinated  by  the  swiftly  recurring  memory  of 
other  days,  arose  slowly  to  a  contemplation  of  her  face. 
I  had  seen  it  heretofore  merely  in  shadow,  scarcely  with 
intelligent  observation,  but  now,  beneath  the  full  glare 
of  electric  light,  its  revealment  awoke  me  to  eager  inter- 

52 


BEGINNING  ACQUAINTANCE 

est.  It  was  a  womanly  face,  strong,  true,  filled  with 
character,  not  so  apt,  perhaps,  to  be  considered  pretty, 
as  lovable  —  a  face  to  awaken  confidence,  and  trust;  a 
low,  broad  forehead,  shadowed  still  by  the  wide- 
brimmed  hat,  and  the  flossy  brown  hair;  the  skin  clear, 
the  cheeks  rounded,  and  slightly  flushed  by  excite- 
ment; the  lips  full  and  finely  arched;  the  chin  firm 
and  smooth.  Her  greatest  claim  to  beauty  was  the 
eyes,  now  securely  veiled  behind  long,  downcast  lashes. 
Yet  I  recalled  their  depth  and  expression  with  a  sud- 
den surging  of  red,  riotous  blood  through  my  veins. 
As  I  sat  there,  uncertain  how  I  might  break  the  embar- 
rassing silence,  she  suddenly  glanced  up  questioningly. 

'You — >you  do  not  at  all  understand  my  position, 
do  you  ?  "  she  asked  timidly.  "  I  mean  why  I  should  be 
homeless,  on  the  street,  alone  at  —  at  such  an  hour?  " 

"  No,"  I  responded,  surprised  into  frankness,  "  you 
do  not  seem  like  that  kind." 

A  wave  of  color  flooded  her  clear  cheeks,  the  brown 
eyes  darkening. 

"  And  I  am  not  that  kind,"  she  exclaimed  proudly, 
her  head  flung  back,  revealing  the  round,  white  throat. 
"  You  must  comprehend  that  fact  at  once." 


CHAPTER  VI 

WE  OPEN  CONFIDENCES 

I  BENT  my  head,  impressed  by  her  earnestness,  every 
instinct  of  a  gentleman  born,  returning  instantly. 

"  I  do  comprehend,"  I  admitted  seriously.  "  Believe 
me  I  have  felt  the  truth  of  this  ever  since  I  first  saw 
your  face.  You  have  ample  reason  for  misjudging  me, 
for  believing  me  a  criminal,  but  I  possess  no  excuse  for 
even  questioning  you.  Shall  we  not  permit  the  whole 
matter  to  rest  there,  and  pretend  at  being  friends  for 
the  moment?  You  have  already  acknowledged  being 
both  homeless  and  hungry.  What  more  do  I  need 
know  to  be  of  assistance?  The  cause  of  such  a  condi- 
tion is  no  business  of  mine,  unless  you  choose  to  tell 
me  voluntarily.  You  may  not  consider  me  a  gentle- 
man," and  I  glanced  down  at  my  cheap  suit.  "  Yet 
surely  you  cannot  regard  me  as  a  mere  brute." 

She  continued  to  gaze  at  me,  her  eyes  misty,  yet  full 
of  wonderment.  My  language  was  not  that  of  the 
slums,  nor  were  my  manners.  To  her  I  must  have 

54 


WE  OPEN  CONFIDENCES 

seemed  as  strange  a  character,  as  she  appeared  to  me. 
We  were  both  advancing  blindly  through  the  dark. 

"  You  are  also,"  she  affirmed  finally,  as  if  half  regret- 
ting the  words.  "  You  are  just  as  penniless  as  I." 

"  Why  should  you  say  that?  " 

"  Because  I  know,"  and  by  now  her  eyes  were  blinded 
by  the  tears  clinging  to  her  lashes.  "  You  —  you  hu- 
miliated yourself  to  serve  me;  you  —  you  were  obliged 
to  pawn  something  in  security  for  this  food.  I  —  I  saw 
you  —  your  excuse  for  leaving  me  outside  was  just  a 
sham.  You  had  no  money.  I  watched  through  the 
window,  and  —  and  I  almost  ran  away,  only  my  prom- 
ise held  me." 

I  laughed  uneasily,  yet  sobered  almost  at  once, 
leaning  across  the  table,  all  earlier  embarrassment 
vanished. 

"  Well,  even  at  that,  it  would  not  be  my  first  experi- 
ence," I  said  swiftly.  "  Poverty  is  extremely  unpleas- 
ant, but  not  a  crime.  Do  not  let  that  unfortunate  condi- 
tion of  my  exchequer  spoil  your  appetite,  my  girl.  I 
can  assure  you  that  is  among  the  least  of  my  troubles. 
In  fact  I  have  of  late  become  hardened  to  that  state  of 
affairs.  My  life  has  been  up  and  down;  I  Ve  ridden 
the  top  wave  of  prosperity,  and  have  knocked  against 
the  rocks  at  the  bottom.  Lately  I  Ve  been  on  the 

55- 


GORDON  CRAIG 

rocks.  But  good  luck,  or  bad,  I  am  not  the  sort  to 
desert  a  woman  in  distress." 

"  You  are  a  man  of  some  education?" 

"  Two  years  at  the  University." 

"And  now?" 

I  smiled  grimly,  determined  to  admit  the  worst. 

"  Little  better  than  a  tramp,  I  suppose,  although  I 
have  held  a  job  lately  • — •  driving  for  a  lumber  yard 
across  the  river." 

A  moment  she  sat  in  silence,  her  eyes  lowered  to  the 
table. 

'What  —  what  was  that  you  offered  the  man  for 
security?  "  she  asked  quietly. 

"  Oh,  nothing  much.  It  had  no  intrinsic  value,  and 
the  fellow  would  not  even  accept  it.  He  was  willing 
to  trust  me." 

"Yes,  but  tell  me  what  it  was?  Something  you 
valued  highly?  " 

I  felt  my  cheeks  reddening,  yet  there  was  no  reason 
why  I  should  not  answer. 

"  It  was  a  medal,  an  army  medal." 

"  You  were  in  the  army  then?  " 

"  Yes,  I  served  an  enlistment  in  the  Philippines,  and 
was  invalided  home ;  discharged  at  the  Presidio.  Some- 
way I  have  been  up  against  tough  luck  ever  since  I  got 

56 


WE  OPEN  CONFIDENCES 

back.  I  think  the  climate  over  there  must  have  locoed 
me;  anyhow  the  liquor  did.  Tonight  the  pendulum  is 
swinging  the  other  way." 

"  Why  do  you  think  that?  " 

"  I  have  met  you,  have  I  not?  " 

There  was  no  brightening  of  her  eyes,  no  acknowl- 
edgment of  the  words. 

"  To  have  the  misery  of  another  added  to  your  own 
requires  no  congratulations,"  she  said  gravely.  "  But 
I  am  glad  you  told  me.  I  know  there  are  many  who 
return  home  like  that.  I  can  understand  why,much  bet- 
ter now  than  I  could  once.  I  have  had  experience  also. 
It  is  so  easy  to  drift  wrong,  when  there  is  no  one  to 
help  you  go  right.  I  used  to  believe  this  world  was 
just  a  beautiful  playground.  I  never  dreamed  what  it 
really  means  to  be  hungry  and  homeless,  to  be  alone 
among  strangers.  I  had  read  of  such  things,  but  they 
never  seemed  real,  or  possible.  But  I  know  it  all  now; 
all  the  utter  loneliness  of  a  great  city.  Why  it  is  easier 
to  fall  than  to  stand,  and,  oh !  I  was  so  desperate  to- 
night. I  —  I  actually  believe  I  had  come  to  the  very 
end  of  the  struggle.  Whatever  happens  —  whatever 
possibly  can  happen  to  me  hereafter  —  I  shall  never 
again  be  the  same  thoughtless  creature,  never  again 
become  uncharitable  to  others  in  misery."  Her  eyes 

57 


GORDON  CRAIG 

dropped  before  mine,  yet  only  to  uplift  themselves 
again,  shining  witn.  brave  resolution.  "  Would  you 
care  to  tell  me  what  it  is  with  you?  What  it  is  you 
fight?" 

"  I  am  afraid  I  do  not  fight,  except  physically,"  I 
confessed  soberly.  "  Probably  that  is  the  whole 
trouble.  If  I  have  ever  had  a  grip  I  Ve  lost  it.  How- 
ever I  'm  willing  to  tell  my  story,  although  it 's  a  poor 
one,  just  the  uninteresting  recital  of  a  fool.  My  home 
was  in  New  England,  my  father  a  fairly  successful 
manufacturer.  My  mother  died  while  I  was  a  child,  and 
I  grew  up  without  restraining  influence.  I  led  an  ordi- 
nary boy's  life,  but  was  always  headstrong,  and  willful, 
excelling  physically.  My  delight  was  hunting,  and  the 
out-of-doors.  However  I  kept  along  with  my  studies 
after  a  fashion,  and  entered  the  University.  Here  I 
devoted  most  of  my  time  to  students'  pranks,  and  ath- 
letics, but  got  through  two  years  before  being  expelled. 
Interesting,  is  n't  it?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  said.  "  It  is  what  I  wish  to  know." 
'  This  expulsion  resulted  in  a  row  at  home,"  I  went 
on,  disgusted  at  myself.  "  And  I  took  French  leave. 
For  six  months  I  knocked  about,  doing  a  little  of  every- 
thing, having  rather  a  tough  time,  but  too  obstinate  to 
confess  my  mistake  and  return.  Of  course  I  naturally 

58 


WE  OPEN  CONFIDENCES 

fell  in  with  a  hard  set,  and  finally  enlisted.  My  regi- 
ment was  sent  to  the  Philippines,  where  we  had  some 
fighting.  1  liked  that,  and  was  a  good  enough  soldier 
to  be  promoted  to  a  sergeantcy.  I  reckon  I  had  better 
have  remained  in  the  service,  for  when  I  was  sent  back 
to  Frisco,  because  of  wounds,  and  then  discharged,  I 
went  to  hell." 

"  And  your  father  does  n't  know?  " 

"  Not  from  me.  I  had  money  at  first,  and  transpor- 
tation to  Chicago  where  I  enlisted.  I  blew  in  the  cash, 
and  lost  the  other.  Then  I  started  in  to  beat  my  pas- 
sage east,  working  only  when  I  had  to.  I  was  thrown 
off  a  train  about  twenty  miles  west  of  here,  and  came 
into  this  burg  on  foot.  It  was  tough  luck  for  a  day  or 
two  until  I  caught  on  to  a  lumber  yard  job.  I  Ve  been 
working  now  for  a  couple  of  weeks.  Nice  record,  is  n't 
it?" 

Her  parted  lips  trembled,  but  those  questioning 
brown  eyes  never  deserted  my  face. 

11  It  is  not  as  bad  as  I  feared,  if  —  if  you  have  told 
me  all." 

"  I  have  confessed  the  worst  anyhow.  I  'm  a  rough, 
I  suppose,  and  a  bum,  but  I  'm  not  a  criminal." 

;<  Why  were  you  at  that  house?  and  so  afraid  of  the 
police?  " 

59 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  Well,  that  is  a  long  story,"  I  replied  hesitatingly. 
"  I  had  been  talking  with  some  men  inside,  who  had 
offered  me  work,  and  good  pay.  There  was  a  reason 
why  I  did  not  wish  to  be  seen  coming  out  at  that 
hour." 

"  Not  —  not  anything  criminal?  " 

"No;  I've  confessed  to  being  a  good-for-nothing, 
but  I  'm  clear  of  crime." 

She  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief. 

"  I  do  not  quite  believe,"  she  said  firmly.  "  You  — 
you  do  not  look  like  that." 

I  laughed  in  spite  of  my  efforts. 

44  I  am  delighted  to  have  you  say  so.  No  more  do 
I  feel  like  that  now.  Yet  so  the  record  reads,  and  you 
must  accept  me  just  as  I  am,  or  not  at  all.  I  have 
nothing  else  to  offer." 

She  lowered  her  eyes,  her  fingers  still  nervously 
fumbling  the  menu  card. 

"  Perhaps  I  have  no  more." 

44 1  have  asked  no  explanation  of  you." 

"  True;  yet  you  cannot  be  devoid  of  curiosity.  You 
meet  me  after  midnight,  wandering  alone  in  the  streets; 
you  see  me  boldly,  shamelessly,  interfering  to  prevent 
the  arrest  of  a  strange  man;  you  hear  me  deliberately 
falsify,  again  and  again.  What  could  you  think  of  such 

60 


WE  OPEN  CONFIDENCES 

a  woman?  Then  I  accept  your  invitation,  and  accom- 
pany you  here,  believing  you  a  criminal.  What  pos- 
sible respect  could  you,  or  any  other  man,  entertain  for 
a  girl  guilty  of  such  indiscretion?  " 

"  You  ask  my  individual  judgment,  or  that  of  the 
world?" 

"  Yours,  of  course;  I  know  the  other  already." 

I  extended  my  hand  across  the  table,  and  placed  it 
over  her  own.  A  swift  flush  sprang  to  her  cheeks,  but 
she  made  no  effort  to  draw  away.  The  action  was  so 
natural,  so  unaffectedly  sincere,  as  to  awaken  no  re- 
sentment. 

"  I  am  a  young  man,"  I  said  earnestly,  "  but  I  have 
seen  all  kinds  of  life,  both  right  and  wrong,  upper  and 
lower.  I  can  realize  how  easy  it  is  to  sit  in  a  club 
window,  and  criticize  the  people  passing  along  the  street. 
That  is  an  amusement  of  fools.  The  inclination  to 
become  one  of  that  class  left  me  long  ago.  Now  I  do 
not  understand  why  you  were  upon  the  street  tonight 
unattended;  why  you  came  to  my  assistance,  or  why 
you  are  here  with  me  now.  I  have  no  desire  to  pry 
into  your  secret.  I  am  content  to  remain  grateful,  to 
count  this  a  red-letter  day,  because  somehow,  out  of 
the  mystery  of  the  dark,  we  have  thus  been  brought  to- 
gether. An  old  professor  used  to  say  all  life  hinges  on 

61 


GORDON  CRAIG 

little  things,  and  I  believe  our  chance  meeting  is  going 
to  change  both  our  lives,  and  for  the  better.  Without 
asking  a  question,  or  harboring  a  suspicion,  I  have 
faith  in  you  —  is  that  enough  ?  " 

"  You  mean,  you  accept  me  upon  trust?  " 

"  Certainly;  even  as  you  must  accept  me.  I  have  no 
letters  of  recommendation." 

She  was  again  looking  directly  toward  me,  her  brown 
eyes  earnest  and  fearless. 

"I  —  I  confess  I  like  your  face,"  she  admitted,  "  and 
I  believe  you  have  tried  to  tell  me  the  truth  about  your- 
self, but  our  situation  is  so  peculiar,  so  different  from 
what  I  have  been  taught  was  proper."  She  smiled 
sadly,  her  eyes  misting.  "  I  am  afraid  you  will  not 
understand.  You  can  scarcely  appreciate  how  strictly 
I  have  been  brought  up,  or  what  such  an  unconventional 
meeting  as  this  means  to  me.  I  ought  to  be  ashamed 
of  myself." 

"But  are  you?" 

"  Really  I  —  I  do  not  seem  to  be.  It  almost  fright- 
ens me  to  realize  I  am  not,  I  do  not  understand  myself 
at  all.  Why  should  I  talk  thus  frankly  with  you? 
Why  feel  confidence  in  you?  It  is  not  in  accordance 
with  the  rules  of  my  old  life,  nor  of  my  nature.  Such 
actions  would  shock  those  who  know  me;  they  ought 

62 


WE  OPEN  CONFIDENCES 

to  shock  me.     Am  I  in  a  dream,  from  which  I  am  going 
to  awaken  presently?     Is  that  the  explanation?" 

I  shook  my  head. 

"  No,  not  in  that  sense,  at  least.  Rather  the  other 
way  around.  You  have  been  in  a  dream  all  your  life 
—  a  dream  that  some  social  code  somewhere  consti- 
tuted the  real  world.  Under  these  petty  regulations 
of  conduct  you  were  not  yourself  at  all,  only  a  make- 
believe.  Something  serious  has  occurred  in  your  life, 
and  changed  all  in  an  instant.  You  have  been  thrown 
against  the  real  world.  You  find  it  not  to  be  what  you 
supposed.  It  is  no  cause  for  shame  or  regret;  woman- 
hood lies  deeper  than  any  pretense  at  gentility.  Men 
seldom  fail  to  recognize  this  fact  —  their  lives  of  strug- 
gle compel  them  to,  but  a  woman  finds  it  hard  to  under- 
stand." 

'  To  understand  what?  " 

"  How  any  man  meeting  her  as  I  have  you  —  in  the 
street  at  night,  under  conditions  society  would  frown 
at  —  can  still  feel  for  her  a  profound  respect,  and  pay 
her  the  deference  which  a  gentleman  must  always  ex- 
tend to  one  he  deems  worthy." 

For  a  long  moment  she  did  not  speak,  but  withdrew 
her  hand  from  beneath  mine,  resting  her  chin  in  its 
palm. 

63 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  "  she  asked  finally. 

"  Gordon  Craig." 

The  lashes  drooped  quickly,  securely  shadowing  the 
brown  depths,  the  flush  deepening  on  her  cheeks.  In 
the  momentary  hush  which  followed  the  waiter  came 
shuffling  forward  with  our  order. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  WOMAN'S  STORY 

I  HAD  never  supposed  I  lacked  audacity,  yet  I  found 
it  strangely  difficult  to  again  pick  up  our  conversa- 
tion. This  woman  puzzled  me;  was  becoming  an 
enigma.  She  encouraged  me,  and  yet  something  about 
her  precluded  all  familiarity.  I  was  haunted  by  the 
vague  suspicion  that  she  might  be  "  stringing  "  me;  that 
she  was  not  as  innocent  as  she  pretended.  Her  eyes 
again  glanced  up,  and  met  mine. 

"  It  is  a  terrible  experience  being  penniless,  and 
alone,"  she  said  with  a  shudder.  "  I  can  never  con- 
demn some  forms  of  evil  as  I  once  did,  for  now  I  have 
felt  temptation  myself.  I  —  I  have  even  learned  to 
doubt  my  own  strength  of  character.  I  walked  past  a 
great  hotel  last  evening,  and  looked  in  through  the  win- 
dows, at  the  dining-room.  It  was  brilliant  with  elec- 
tric lights,  in  rose  globes  over  the  spotless  tables,  and 
hundreds  of  people  were  gathered  about  eating  and 
drinking.  I  had  been  there  myself  more  than  once, 
yet  then  I  was  alone  outside,  in  the  misty  street,  penni- 


GORDON  CRAIG 

less.     I  had  no  strength  left,  no  virtue  —  I  was  in  heart 
a  criminal.     Have  you  ever  felt  that?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  acknowledged,  hopeful  she  would  explain 
further.  "  I  comprehend  fully  what  you  mean.  Na- 
ture is  stronger  than  any  of  us  when  it  comes  to  the 
supreme  trial." 

"  I  had  never  known  before.  It  is  strange  to  confess 
such  a  thing,  but  it  is  true.  I  —  I  do  not  believe  I  am 
weak  as  compared  with  others.  Never  before  have  I 
had  any  occasion  to  question  the  supremacy  of  my  will, 
yet  I  learned  a  lesson  last  night  —  that  I  am  not  a  saint. 
I  actually  faced  crime,  and  it  did  not  even  look  hor- 
rible to  me !  it  appeared  justified.  Even  now,  sitting 
here  with  you,  I  cannot  believe  I  was  wicked.  You 
will  not  misconstrue  my  words,  but  —  but  life  is  not 
always  the  same,  is  it?  How  inexpressibly  cruel  a 
great  city  may  be  with  glaring  wealth  flaunting  itself 
in  the  pinched  face  of  poverty.  How  can  I  help  be- 
ing rebellious  now  that  I  have  seen  all  this  through 
hungry  eyes?  " 

Her  hands  were  clasped  above  her  plate,  the  slender 
fingers  intertwined.  I  was  looking  at  her  so  intently  I 
forgot  to  answer. 

"I  —  I  am  glad  I  met  you,"  she  said  frankly.  "  I 
—  I  think  you  have  saved  me  from  myself." 

66 


THE  WOMAN'S  STORY 

"  You  asked  me  my  name,"  I  broke  in  eagerly. 
"  Would  you  mind  telling  me  who  you  are?  " 

u  I  ?  "  the  clear  cheeks  reddening.  ''  Why,  I  am  only 
a  fool." 

"  Then  there  is,  at  least,  one  tie  between  us.  But,  if 
we  are  to  remain  friends  I  must  know  how  to  address 
you." 

Her  red  lips  parted  doubtfully,  her  brow  wrinkling, 

"  Yes,  and  we  cannot  afford  to  be  conventional,  can 
we?  I  am  Viola  Bernard." 

"  I  knew  a  girl  once  by  that  name ;  ages  ago  it  seems 
now.  A  little  thing  in  short  skirts,  but  I  thought  her 
rather  nice.  I  believe  we  are  inclined  to  like  names 
associated  with  pleasant  memories.  So  I  am  glad  your 
name  is  Viola." 

"  It  was  my  mother's  name,"  she  said  quietly,  her 
eyes  downcast,  "  andl  am  not  sorry  you  like  it."  She 
stirred  the  coffee  in  her  cup,  watching  the  bubbles  rise 
to  the  surface.  "  I  feel  more  confidence  in  you  than  I 
did,  because  you  have  been  so  honest  about  yourself." 

"  I  have  told  you  the  truth.  I  think  I  comprehend 
one  trait,  at  least,  of  your  character  —  you  would  never 
again  trust  one  who  had  deliberately  deceived  you." 

She  did  not  remove  her  eyes  from  the  cup,  nor  ap- 
pear to  note  my  interruption,  but  continued  gravely: 

67 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  I  must  tell  my  story  to  someone ;  I  can  fight  fate 
alone  no  longer.  Perhaps  I  may  not  confess  every- 
thing, for  I  do  not  know  you  well  enough  for  that,  but 
enough,  at  least,  so  you  will  no  longer  suspect  that  I  — 
I  am  a  bad  woman." 

"  I  could  never  really  believe  that" 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  could.  I  have  read  in  your  face  that 
my  character  puzzles  you.  You  invited  me  to  drink 
a  cocktail  to  try  me.  Don't  protest,  for  really  I  do 
not  wonder  at  it,  or  blame  you  in  the  least.  How  could 
you  think  otherwise?  My  position  was  a  strange  one, 
bound  to  awaken  suspicion ;  my  conduct  immodest.  Yet 
you  must  accept  my  explanation,  for  I  shall  tell  the 
truth.  I  was  never  guilty  of  such  an  act  before  — 
never!  Perhaps  because  I  was  never  tempted.  There 
is  a  home  I  could  return  to,  and  a  mother,  but  they 
are  more  than  a  thousand  miles  from  here.  But  I 
cannot  go,  even  if  I  possessed  the  means,  because  of 
my  pride  —  my  false  pride  possibly.  I  have,  chosen  my 
course,  and  must  abide  by  it  to  the  end." 

She  drew  a  long  breath,  speaking  very  slowly. 

"  It  is  a  hard  story  to  tell,  for  the  wound  is  still  fresh, 
and  hurts.  I  was  upon  the  stage  —  not  long,  but  with 
sufficient  success  so  that  I  had  become  leading  woman 
with  one  of  the  best  stock  companies.  It  was  against 

68 


my  mother's  wish  I  entered  the  profession,  and  she  hr " 
never  become  reconciled  to  it,  although  our  relationship 
remained  pleasant.  A  few  months  ago,  while  playing  in 
Omaha,  I  met  Fred  Bernard.  I  krew  little  of  him,  but 
he  appeared  gentlemanly  and  well-to-do,  and  was  pre- 
s°nted  to  me  by  one  in  whom  I  had  confidence.  He 
was  pleasant,  and  apparently  in  love  with  me;  I  liked 
him,  was  flattered  by  his  attentions,  and  discouraged  in 
my  ambition.  When  he  asked  me  to  marry  him  condi- 
tions were  such  that  I  accepted,  even  consented,  under 
his  urging,  to  an  immediate  ceremony.  We  came  to 
this  city,  were  quietly  married  here,  and  occupied  a 
flat  on  the  north  side.  My  husband  did  no  work,  but 
received  remittances  from  home,  and  apparently  had 
plenty  of  means.  He  told  me  little  about  himself,  or 
his  condition,  but  promised  to  take  me  to  his  people  in 
a  little  while.  He  said  his  father  was  wealthy,  but 
eccentric;  that  he  had  told  him  of  our  marriage,  but 
there  had  been  a  quarrel  between  them,  and  he  could 
not  take  me  there  without  an  invitation.  I  was  never 
shown  the  letters,  but  they  bore  Southern  postmarks." 

She  paused,  hesitating,  her  eyes  full  of  pain. 

"I  —  I  was  afraid  to  question,  for  —  for  he  proved 
so  different  after  our  marriage.  He  was  a  drunkard, 
abusive  and  quarrelsome.  I  had  never  before  been  in 

69 


GORDON  CRAIG 

inf-imate  contact  with  anyone  like  that,  and  I  was  afraid 
of  him.  Whatever  of  love  I  might  have  felt  died  with- 
in me  under  abuse.  He  struck  me  the  second  day,  and 
from  that  moment  I  dreaded  his  home-coming.  For 
weeks  I  scarcely  saw  him  sober,  and  his  treatment  of 
me  was  brutal." 

Tears  were  in  her  eyes,  but  she  held  them  back,  forc- 
ing herself  to  go  on. 

"  Then  he  was  gone  two  days  and  nights  leaving 
me  alone.  He  reappeared  the  third  evening  in  the 
worst  condition  I  had  ever  seen  him.  He  acted  like 
a  veritable  savage,  cursing  and  striking  at  me,  and  fi- 
nally drove  me  from  the  house,  flourishing  a  revolver  in 
my  face,  and  locking  the  door  behind  me.  I  —  I  sat 
there  on  the  steps  an  hour,  and  endeavored  to  go  back, 
but  there  was  no  response.  I  walked  the  streets,  and 
then  —  having  a  little  money  with  me  —  found  a  place 
to  lodge.  The  next  day  I  went  back,  but  the  flat  was 
locked  still,  and  neighbors  said  my  husband  had  left 
with  a  traveling  bag.  I  —  I  was  actually  thrown  out 
upon  the  streets  to  starve." 

Her  voice  lowered,  so  that  I  was  compelled  to  lean 
closer  to  catch  the  rapidly  spoken  words. 

"  At  first  I  —  I  was  not  altogether  sorry.  I  thought 
it  would  be  easy  to  find  work.  I  was  not  afraid  of 

70 


THE  WOMAN'S  STORY 

that  —  but  —  but  it  was  not  easy.  Oh!  how  hard  I 
tri  j.  I  faced  open  insult;  cowardly  insinuation;  brutal 
coarseness.  I  never  dreamed  before  how  men  could 
treat  women  seeking  honorable  employment.  Scarcely 
a  courteous  word  greeted  me.  Refusal  was  blunt,  im- 
perative, or  else,  in  those  cases  where  vague  encourage- 
ment was  given,  it  was  so  worded  as  to  cause  my  with- 
drawal in  shame.  If  I  had  been  skilled  in  any  business 
line  my  reception  might  have  been  different;  if  I  pos- 
sessed recommendations,  or  could  have  frankly  con- 
fessed the  truth,  perhaps  I  might  have  been  given  a 
chance.  But  as  it  was  everywhere,  suspicion  was  aroused 
by  my  reticence,  my  inability  to  explain,  and  the  inter- 
view ended  in  curt  dismissal,  or  suggestive  innuendo." 

She  paused  again,  her  bosom  rising  and  falling,  her 
cheeks  flushed. 

"  Go  on,"  I  said,  encouragingly.  "  Do  not  fear  I 
shall  misunderstand.  I  have  been  through  the  same 
mill." 

She  gave  me  a  quick  glance  of  gratitude,  pressing 
back  a  straggling  strand  of  hair. 

"  But  you  were  not  a  woman,"  she  insisted,  "  and 
could  defend  yourself  from  insult.  I  endeavored  so 
hard  to  discover  some  opening;  I  even  sought  domestic 
service,  and  was  examined  as  though  I  was  a  horse  on 


GORDON  CRAIG 

sale.  I  walked  the  streets;  I  refused  to  despair,  or  per- 
mit myself  to  believe  failure  possible.  I  went  horn  at 
night,  tired  out,  to  a  little  rented  room  in  Forty-Ninth 
Street,  prayed  as  I  used  to  when  a  child,  cried  myself  to 
sleep,  only  to  wake  up  the  next  morning  determined  to 
continue.  I  was  not  weak  then;  I  was  as  strong  as  any 
girl  could  be;  I  —  I  fcTught  it  out  to  the  very  last,"  her 
head  suddenly  drooping,  "  but  —  but  the  end  came  just 
the  same.  Perhaps  I  should  never  have  hung  on  so 
long;  perhaps  it  would  have  been  better  to  have  sent 
word  to  my  mother,  and  asked  help  to  go  home.  But 
—  but  I  kept  hoping  to  succeed,  until  it  was  too  late.  I 
spent  all  the  little  money  I  had,  and  pawned  my  rings. 
I  had  married  against  my  mother's  wish.  I  could  not 
turn  to  her  for  help.  Oh,  I  was  tempted;  I  think  you 
must  know  what  I  mean!  You  realize  what  tempta- 
tion is;  how  it  weakens,  and  conquers  the  soul?  " 

I  closed  my  hand  firmly  over  hers. 

"  Yes,  I  know." 

Her  sensitive  face  brightened;  her  eyes  clearing  of 
mist. 

"  It  is  a  comfort  to  speak  with  a  gentleman  again. 
I  —  I  had  almost  begun  to  believe  there  were  none  left 
in  the  world.  You  give  me  courage  to  go  on,  to 
acknowledge  everything.  Mr.  Craig,  I  was  a  soul  tot- 

72 


THE  WOMAN'S  STORY 

taring  on  the  brink  when  I  met  you  out  yonder;  a  des- 
perate, disheartened  girl,  tempted  to  the  point  of  sur- 
render. I  had  lost  hope,  pride,  all  redeeming  stiength 
of  womanhood.  I  scarcely  cared  whether  death,  or 
dishonor,  claimed  me.  I  do  not  know  what  fateful 
impulse  moves  me  now,  but  I  can  look  into  your  eyes 
with  ->ut  sense  of  shame,  and  confess  this.  I  was,  in 
all  essential  truth,  a  woman  of  the  street  —  not  yet 
lowered  utterly  to  that  level,  not  yet  sacrificed,  but 
with  no  moral  strength  left  for  resistance.  No  fear,  no 
horror.  Oh,  God !  it  seems  like  some  awful  dream  — 
yet  it  was  true,  true !  I  had  ceased  to  struggle,  to 
care;  I  had  begun  to  drift;  I  had  lost  everything  a 
woman  prizes,  even  my  faith  in  God.  I  know  you  can- 
not comprehend  what  this  means  —  no  man  could. 
But  I  want  you  to  try.  Think  what  it  would  mean  to 
your  sister,  to  some  pure  friend  in  whom  you  have 
implicit  trust.  Oh,  I  know  what  the  world  would 
say  —  the  well-fed,  well-clothed,  well-housed,  sneering 
world  —  but  it  is  to  you  I  appeal  for  some  slight  mercy. 
You  have  also  suffered,  and  grown  weak,  and,  because 
you  told  me  your  story  first,  I  dare  now  to  tell  mine. 
I  was  a  soul  on  the  brink,  and  —  God  forgive  me !  — 
not  afraid  of  the  rocks  below.  Like  one  stupefied  I 
looked  down,  hated  myself  and  laughed." 

73 


CHAPTER  VIII 

FACING  THE   PROBLEM 

MY  fingers  closed  yet  more  tightly  over  the  5  nail 
hand,  but  her  face  remained  rigid,  the  lines  deep 
about  the  mouth. 

"  The  landlady  had  turned  me  out,"  speaking  now 
bitterly  and  swiftly,  "  retaining  my  few  belongings, 
and  calling  me  a  foul  name  which  made  me  cower  away 
like  a  whipped  child.  I  had  nothing  left  —  nothing. 
For  a  week  I  had  listened  to  no  kind  word,  met  with 
no  kind  act.  I  was  upon  the  street,  alone,  at  night, 
purposeless,  homeless,  wandering  aimlessly  from  place 
to  place,  weakened  by  hunger,  stupefied  by  despair. 
Men  spoke  to  me,  and  I  fled  their  presence  as  though 
they  were  pestilence;  women,  painted,  shameless  crea- 
tures, greeted  me  in  passing  as  one  of  their  own  class, 
and  I  sought  to  avoid  them.  Once  I  mustered  sufficient 
courage  to  ask  help,  but  —  but  the  man  only  laughed, 
and  called  me  a  foul  name.  I  do  not  know  where  I 
went,  what  the  streets  were  called.  I  remember  the 
brilliantly  lighted  hotel;  the  theater  crowds  jostling 

74 


FACING  THE  PROBLEM 

me  on  the  sidewalks;  the  saloons  where  I  saw  women 
slipping  in  through  side  entrances,  the  strains  of  piano 
music  jingling  forth  on  the  night  air.  I  —  I  knew  what 
it  meant,  and  lingered,  faint  and  trembling,  before  one 
illuminated  front,  like  a  fascinated  bird,  until  a  drunken 
man,  reeling  forth,  laid  hand  on  my  shoulder  with 
proposal  of  insult.  I  broke  away  from  him,  and  ran 
into  the  dark,  every  nerve  tingling." 

She  shuddered,  catching  her  breath  sharply. 

"  Then  —  then  I  found  myself  out  among  the  resi- 
dences, where  everything  was  still  and  lonely,  walking, 
walking,  walking,  every  shadow  appearing  like  a  ghost. 
I  sat  down  to  rest  on  the  curbing,  but  a  policeman  drove 
me  away;  once  I  crept  into  a  darkened  vestibule  in  a 
big  apartment  building,  but  another  discovered  me 
there,  and  threatened  to  take  me  to  the  station.  I 
did  n't  care  much  by  that  time,  yet  finally  he  let  me  go, 
and  I  crept  miserably  on.  I  became  afraid  of  the  po- 
lice; I  felt  as  I  suppose  criminals  must  feel;  I  slunk 
along  in  the  dark  shadows  like  a  hunted  thing.  The 
night  grew  misty  and  damp,  but  I  found  no  shelter. 
I  had  no  will  power  left,  no  womanhood,  no  remorse; 
I  had  become  a  thing  to  play  with,  a  body  without  a 
soul.  I  had  ceased  to  care,  to  think,  to  even  remem- 
ber; I  only  wanted  to  drop  the  struggle,  and  have  it 

75 


GORDON  CRAIG 

over  with.  Perhaps  I  should  have  taken  my  own  life, 
had  I  only  known  how  to  accomplish  it  —  it  seemed 
infinitely  worse  to  live  than  to  die.  It  was  thus  I 
came  there,  to  that  corner.  I  heard  the  policeman  ap- 
proaching along  the  side  street,  and,  terrified,  sprang 
into  the  yard  to  escape  —  then  —  then,  I  met  you." 

Someone  laughed  at  one  of  the  other  tables,  and  I 
wheeled  about  in  my  chair.  For  an  instant  I  believed 
her  voice  had  been  overheard,  but  instantly  realized 
the  mistake  and  turned  back,  noticing  how  she  was 
trembling. 

"  Tell  me,"  I  questioned  earnestly,  "  what  caused  you 
to  interfere  between  me  and  the  officer?  " 

"What!  Oh,  I  hardly  know,"  a  touch  of  hysteria 
in  the  nervous  exclamation.  "  It  was  just  a  natural 
ending  to  all  the  rest,  I  suppose.  I  was  a  criminal  in 
heart,  a  fugitive;  I  hated  the  law,  and  was  afraid  of 
the  police.  I  merely  did  what  occurred  to  me  first, 
without  thought,  volition,  purpose.  I  was  compelled  to 
choose  instantly  between  his  mercy  and  yours;  the  — 
the  difference  seemed  small  enough  then,  but  —  but  I 
realized  you  were  frightened  also,  and  —  and  so  I 
preferred  to  trust  you.  That  was  all;  it  was  my 
fate,  and  —  and,  well  I  did  n't  care  much  how  it 
ended." 

76 


FACING  THE  PROBLEM 

"  But  you  endeavored  to  escape  from  me;  you  sought 
to  compel  my  leaving  you?  " 

She  lifted  her  face  again,  flushing,  saddened,  slightly 
indignant,  the  brown  eyes  widening. 

"  Perhaps  the  soul  was  not  all  dead,"  she  returned 
gravely.  "  Perhaps  womanhood  was  not  all  gone.  I 
did  not  know  you ;  I  was  in  terror." 

"And  now?" 

Our  eyes  met,  her  own  cleared  of  tears,  gazing 
frankly  at  me. 

"  I  am  not  afraid;  I  believe  I  have  found  a  man, 
and  a  friend." 

I  was  conscious  of  a  sudden  wild  throb  of  the  heart, 
a  swift  rush  of  blood  through  my  veins. 

"  I  might  have  doubted  that  myself  a  while  ago,"  I 
acknowledged  almost  bitterly,  "  but  now  I  am  going 
to  make  good.  Lord!  how  a  fellow  can  run  to  seed 
when  he  lets  himself  go.  Don't  you  know  you  are 
helping  me,  as  much  as  I  am  you?  You  didn't  find 
much  out  there  —  only  a  drunken  discharged  soldier, 
an  ex-hobo,  with  a  laborer's  job.  I  Ve  wasted  my 
chance  in  life,  and  been  an  infernal  fool.  I  can  see  that 
plain  enough,  and  despise  myself  for  it.  I  knew  it  be- 
fore you  came  —  the  difference  was  then  I  did  n't  care, 
while  now  I  do.  You  have  made  me  care.  Yes,  you 

77 


GORDON  CRAIG 

have,  girl,"  as  she  glanced  up  again,  plainly  startled 
by  this  unexpected  avowal.  '  You  care,  and  because 
I  know  you  do,  things  are  different.  I  mean  it;  this 
is  no  word  play.  I  tell  you  when  a  man  has  been 
steadily  dropping,  in  his  own  estimation,  as  well  as 
the  social  scale;  when  he  has  just  about  lost  his  pride, 
his  self-respect,  his  realization  of  right  and  wrong; 
when  he  sees  nothing  ahead  worth  fighting  for;  when 
he  seeks  happiness  in  drink,  and  makes  companions  out 
of  crooks  and  hobos,  that  is  when  it  amounts  to  some- 
thing to  have  a  real  woman  like  you  come  into  his  life, 
and  hear  her  speak  of  trust  and  friendship.  Lord! 
it 's  like  a  breath  of  pure  air  amid  the  foulness  of  the 
pit.  I  believe  in  you,  and  I  have  n't  believed  in  any- 
body for  a  long  while.  Perhaps  you  did  n't  wholly 
mean  all  you  said  to  me;  perhaps  you  '11  forget  about 
it  when  your  luck  changes,  but  it 's  a  thing  that  is  going 
to  stay  with  me;  you  can  bet  on  that!  I  guess  it  was 
what  I  Ve  been  hungry  for;  the  loss  of  it  had  taken 
the  very  heart  out  of  me,"  I  paused,  fearful  I  might 
be  going  too  far,  yet  given  fresh  courage  by  the  ex- 
pression of  her  face.  "  You  see  you  belong  to  my  class, 
little  girl,  and  —  and  you  are  the  first  of  them  to  speak 
a  kind  word  to  me  in  five  years.  It 's  —  it 's  a  bit 
tough  to  be  cut  dead  by  your  own  class." 

78 


FACING  THE  PROBLEM 

It  was  her  hand,  white  and  slender,  which  reached 
shyly  across  the  table,  and  touched  mine,  but  her  eyes 
alone  made  answer. 

"  That  is  all  right,"  I  continued,  my  voice  shaking. 
"  I  understand  how  you  feel.  Anyhow  you  Ve  made 
a  new  man  out  of  me;  maybe  the  stuff  is  n't  much,  but 
there  is  a  soul  in  it  somewhere,  and  you  Ve  given  that 
soul  something  to  get  a  grip  on.  That  was  all  I  needed, 
just  to  get  my  teeth  set.  But  what  about  you  ?  This 
is  no  fit  place  for  your  kind  —  you  better  go  home  to 
your  mother." 

She  shook  her  head  with  decision. 

"Why  not  Pis  she  hard?" 

"  Yes,  she  would  be  very  hard  with  me." 

"  Do  you  mean  you  would  rather  risk  it  here  with  — 
with  me,  than  go  back,  and  face  her?  " 

"  Yes,  even  that,"  she  replied  soberly.  "  I  have 
courage  to  fight  it  out  here,  but  not  there.  I  know  what 
it  will  mean  if  I  go  back  —  reproaches,  gossip,  ostra- 
cism —  all  the  petty  meannesses  of  a  small  town.  I 
loathe  the  very  thought.  I  am  strong  again,  and  I 
will  not  go.  It  is  between  God  and  me,  this  decision; 
between  God  and  me."  She  drooped  her  head,  hiding 
her  face  upon  her  arms,  her  shoulders  trembling. 
'You  —  you  may  despise  me;  you  may  think  me 

79 


GORDON  CRAIG 

the  lowest  of  the  low,  but  I  —  I  am  going  to  stay 
here." 

I  sat  in  silence,  amazed,  puzzled,  gazing  across  at 
her,  my  face  sober,  my  hands  clinched. 

"  You  actually  mean  you  dare  risk  yourself  here  — 
with  me?" 

"  With  your  help;  with  you  as  a  friend  to  talk  to  — 
yes." 

I  drew  in  my  breath  sharply,  my  forehead  beaded 
with  perspiration. 

"  But  stop  and  think  what  I  am,"  I  urged  recklessly. 
"  A  mere  hobo." 

She  raised  her  face,  the  flushed  cheeks  wet,  the  brown 
eyes  glowing  indignantly. 

"  No,"  she  said  earnestly.     "  You  are  not  that;  you 


are  a  man." 


For  a  long  minute  I  did  not  answer,  unable  to  de- 
termine what  to  do,  how  to  act.  We  had  both  finished 
our  meal,  and  there  was  no  excuse  for  lingering  longer 
at  the  table. 

"  You  will  go  with  me,  then?  " 

"  Yes." 

I  pushed  back  my  chair,  and  she  arose  also,  follow- 
ing me  without  question  as  I  passed  across  to  the  door. 
The  cashier  nodded  to  my  good  night,  and  I  opened 

80 


FACING  THE  PROBLEM 

the  door  for  her  passage  to  the  street.  The  mist  of 
the  cloudy  night  had  been  blown  away  by  an  increasing 
breeze.  The  air  was  warm,  and  the  sky  brightening  in 
the  east.  I  glanced  aside  into  her  face,  and  led  the 
way  into  a  near-by  park,  the  two  of  us  trudging  along 
a  well-kept  gravel  path,  until  I  discovered  a  bench  hid- 
den from  observation  amid  surrounding  shrubbery. 

"  I  Ve  simply  got  to  think  this  whole  matter  out," 
I  explained  simply.  "  It 's  happened  so  unexpectedly. 
I  'm  stumped  as  to  what  had  better  be  done." 

She  remained  standing,  resting  one  hand  on  the  back 
of  the  settee,  a  slender  figure,  neatly  enough  dressed, 
yet  exhibiting  evidence  of  her  long  night's  wandering. 

"You  mean  I  am  a  problem?  You  —  you  do  not 
know  what  to  do  with  me?  " 

I  glanced  at  her,  surprised  by  the  change  in  her  voice. 

"Naturally;  a  young  woman  is  usually  a  problem, 
isn't  she?  This  particular  one  has  come  with  a  sud- 
denness sufficient  to  jar  anybody's  nerves.  Three 
hours  ago  I  was  without  responsibility,  a  mere  log 
adrift  on  the  current.  I  Ve  hardly  wakened  up  yet  to 
the  change  in  conditions.  Here  I  am  a  fellow  so  ut- 
terly worthless  that  I  have  n't  even  been  able  to  take 
decent  care  of  myself  alone,  yet  all  at  once  the  duty 
fronts  me  to  double  my  responsibilities." 
6  81 


GORDON  CRAIG 

Her  cheeks  reddened. 

"  No,  you  are  not  1  Is  that  then  your  conception  of 
me?  Let  me  tell  you  differently.  Just  so  soon  as  this 
city  wakes  up,  I  am  going  to  start  forth  again  and  seek 
work." 

The  smile  I  was  attempting  faded. 

"  Seek  work !  I  understood  you  confided  yourself  to 
my  care." 

"Not  —  not  in  that  way  —  never!"  indignantly. 
"  You  had  no  right  to  so  construe  my  words.  You  — • 
you  know  I  am  not  like  that.  I  trusted  you  as  a  man; 
I  —  I  gave  you  my  —  my  confidence  as  a  friend,"  her 
speech  growing  swift,  and  impetuous.  "  Do  not  make 
me  sorry.  I  will  not  accept  your  money;  I  will  never 
remain  dependent  upon  you,  or  a  burden.  I  have  re- 
gained my  courage,  and  am  no  longer  afraid.  All  I 
needed  was  to  know  that  I  was  not  all  alone  —  I  can 
fight  for  the  rest." 

"  Mrs.  Bernard,"  I  began  quietly,  realizing  her 
spirit.  '  You  have  given  a  wrong  meaning  to  my 
words;  I  respect  you,  believe  in  you,  and  merely  desire 
to  help  you  to  the  best  of  my  ability.  Sit  down  here, 
and  let  us  face  this  thing  squarely  together.  We 
must  n't  act  like  children,  or  close  our  eyes  to  facts. 
For  instance  —  we  have  both  been  up  all  night.  That 

82 


FACING  THE  PROBLEM 

is  n't  specially  new  for  me,  but  it  is  to  you,  and  the  ex- 
posure and  strain  shows.  You  are  not  fit  to  go  out 
hunting  employment." 

"  Poverty  has  no  choice,"  bitterly.  "  The  fact  that 
I  am  tired  does  not  matter." 

"  Oh,  but  it  does.  Now  I  am  not  quite  so  badly 
off  as  you  suppose.  All  I  ask  is  a  chance  to  think,  to 
arrange  some  plan.  Won't  you  sit  quietly  there  until 
I  puzzle  it  out?  " 

She  sank  down  wearily  upon  one  end  of  the  settee, 
and  I  took  the  other,  leaning  forward,  my  face  in  my 
hands. 


CHAPTER  IX 

WE    COMPLETE   ARRANGEMENTS 

FOR  a  few  moments  as  I  sat  thus  in  silence  the  ob- 
vious way  out  never  once  occurred  to  me.  Some- 
how the  memory  of  my  own  position  had  become  blotted 
out  in  contemplation  of  the  serious  predicament  of  my 
companion.  How  could  I  assist  her  in  spite  of  her 
pride,  and  her  determination  to  continue  the  struggle 
alone.  I  could  not  take  her  to  my  boarding  house, 
which  was  exclusively  for  men,  nor  did  I  have  any  ac- 
quaintance able  to  furnish  her  employment.  I  shoved 
my  hands  deep  into  my  pockets,  and  my  fingers  touched 
the  two  bills  handed  me  by  Vail.  For  an  instant  I 
failed  to  realize  their  significance,  and  then  the  recol- 
lection of  my  own  engagement  came  swiftly  back.  At 
first  the  memory  was  a  disgust;  the  very  presence  of  the 
girl,  and  her  tale  of  struggle,  made  me  realize  the 
sordidness  of  this  plot  in  which  I  was  involved.  Some- 
how it  struck  me  then  as  a  dirty,  underhanded  scheme. 
Yet,  as  I  reviewed  the  details,  this  conception  largely 
vanished.  We  were  defrauding  no  one,  merely  pro- 

84 


WE  COMPLETE  ARRANGEMENTS 

tecting  a  man  helpless  to  protect  himself,  backed  by 
legal  advice,  as  well  as  by  the  desire  of  the  administra- 
tors of  the  will.  The  comparatively  large  sum  of 
money  offered  me  for  the  service  was  not  excessive  con- 
sidering the  amount  involved,  or  the  way  in  which 
I  physically  resembled  the  party  represented.  The 
feeling  of  resentment  died  away,  but  I  doubted  if  she 
could  be  made  to  look  at  it  in  the  same  light.  I  glanced 
across  to  where  she  sat,  the  gray  dawn  giving  me  clear 
view.  Her  head  rested  back  upon  one  arm,  and  she 
was  asleep.  Uncomfortable  as  she  looked,  she  was 
still  resting,  the  tired  lines  of  her  face  less  noticeable. 
I  had  no  heart  to  awaken  her,  and  remained  motionless, 
thinking  it  all  over  carefully  in  detail. 

We  remained  undisturbed,  our  settee  removed  from 
the  main  pathway,  along  which  a  few  early  workmen 
passed.  She  was  the  very  one  to  act  the  part  of  Philip 
Henley's  wife,  if  she  would  consent.  Her  refinement, 
the  clear  innocence  of  her  face,  would  be  convincing, 
and  I  began  already  to  long  for  her  company.  Yet 
she  would  have  to  be  told  every  detail,  convinced  the 
apparent  fraud  was  justifiable.  I  rather  dreaded  the 
look  in  her  eyes  when  she  first  heard  the  proposal,  and 
her  questioning  me.  While  I  still  hesitated,  fearful 
of  refusal,  the  sun  shining  upon  her  face  awoke  her 

85 


GORDON  CRAIG 

suddenly.  She  straightened  up  instantly,  but  her  eyes 
smiled  as  they  met  mine. 

"  I  was  asleep,"  she  said  in  surprise.  "  For  how 
long?  " 

"  Nearly  two  hours." 

"  And  you  have  sat  there  quietly  all  that  time  ?  " 

"  That  is  nothing.  I  was  tired,  but  not  sleepy.  Be- 
sides, I  had  so  much  to  think  about." 

"  You  mean  regarding  what  you  shall  do  with  me," 
and  she  arose  to  her  feet.  "  It  is  time  now  I  did  some- 
thing for  myself." 

"  Wait,  please,"  and  I  extended  my  hand,  almost 
forcing  her  back  upon  the  settee.  "  Let  me  say  a  word 
first  before  you  decide  to  go.  All  I  told  you  last  night 
about  myself  is  true,  with  one  exception.  I  have 
money,  and  profitable  work  in  view  —  see  1  "  and  I 
held  before  her  the  two  bills. 

She  gazed  at  them  with  wide-open  eyes,  half  con- 
vinced of  some  legerdemain. 

"  A  thousand  dollars,"  she  exclaimed  bewildered. 
"  You!  why,  what  does  it  all  mean?  " 

'  Yes,  and  nine  thousand  more  promised,  when  I 
complete  work  that  ought  not  to  require  to  exceed  two 
months.  I  was  not  without  money  in  the  restaurant, 
only  I  could  not  ask  the  cashier  to  change  so  large  a 

86 


WE  COMPLETE  ARRANGEMENTS 

bill.  Sit  down  again,  please,  and  let  me  tell  you  the 
story." 

She  did  so,  almost  reluctantly,  as  though  doubting 
my  sanity,  but  I  could  note  a  change  in  the  expression 
of  her  face  as  I  proceeded.  I  told  it  slowly,  care- 
fully, pausing  to  explain  each  detail  to  her  questioning, 
yet  was  not  interrupted  more  than  once  or  twice.  Some- 
how, as  I  thus  repeated  the  proposed  scheme  to  another 
it  did  not  appear  quite  as  easy,  or  honorable,  as  when  I 
faced  it  alone.  However,  I  struggled  through,  paint- 
ing the  affair  as  well  as  I  could,  but  without  daring  to 
propose  her  cooperation.  Her  wide-open  eyes  on  my 
face  gave  me  a  thrill  of  apprehension  I  could  not  an- 
alyze. 

'  That 's  the  whole  story,"  I  ended,  rather  lamely. 
"  What  do  you  think  of  it?  " 

"I  —  I  hardly  know,"  with  slow  hesitation.  "  It 
is  very  strange.  Tell  me  the  young  man's  name  again." 

"Henley  — Philip  Henley." 

"And  the  town?" 

"  Carrollton,  Alabama." 

"  And  he  is  in  prison  for  crime,  you  say  —  what 
crime?  " 

"  Forgery,  a  fourteen-year  sentence." 

"  Did  they  tell  you  when  he  was  sent  there?  " 

8? 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"No;  I  believe  not." 

"  And  his  wife  has  disappeared?  They  can  find  no 
trace  of  her?  " 

"  So  both  men  assured  me." 

"  And  this  one  named  Neale  —  are  you  certain  he  is 
an  administrator?  " 

'  Yes,  I  was  shown  a  certified  copy  of  the  will;  every- 
thing seemed  to  be  exactly  as  represented." 

She  pressed  one  hand  to  her  forehead,  her  eyes  on 
the  ground.  I  watched  her,  an  unasked  question  trem- 
bling on  my  lips.  Suddenly  she  looked  up  again,  her 
cheeks  flushed. 

'  You  were  going  to  suggest  that  I  go  with  you,  were 
you  not?  "  she  asked  swiftly.  "  That  I  play  the  wife's 
part  ?  Why  did  n't  you  ask  it  ?  " 

"  Because  I  lacked  courage,"  I  replied  frankly,  yet 
leaning  eagerly  toward  her.  "  I  was  afraid  you  would 
take  such  a  proposition  wrongly." 

"  Then  you  retain  some  respect  for  me;  some  faith  in 
my  character?  " 

"  I  certainly  do,"  earnestly. 

"  And  you  see  nothing  wrong  in  carrying  out  your 
part?  You  mean  to  go  to  Carrollton  with  someone  — 
a  woman?  " 

"I  —  I  agreed  to  the  terms  —  yes." 

88 


WE  COMPLETE  ARRANGEMENTS 

She  drew  a  long  breath,  her  eyes  upon  mine. 

"  Then  I  will  go  also,"  she  said  soberly,  and  held  out 
her  hand. 

"You  mean  that?" 

"  Yes  —  why  not?  Surely  it  is  as  right  for  me  as 
for  you.  You  wished  me  to  say  yes,  did  you  not?  " 

My  face  must  have  answered,  as  my  lips  failed,  but 
she  went  on  swiftly: 

"  Then  I  will  go;  only  remember  it  is  acting,  a  mere 
play  in  which  I  have  a  certain  part  to  perform.  We 
are  to  be  friends  throughout  it  all  —  actors  on  the 
stage.  There  must  be  no  misunderstanding  about 
this." 

I  had  recovered  my  voice  now,  realizing  all  she 
meant,  and  anxious  to  reassure  her. 

u  Certainly.  There  will  be  no  mistake,  Mrs.  Ber- 
nard. That  was  why  I  hesitated  to  ask  you,  for  fear 
you  might  misinterpret  my  purpose.  You  are  the  very 
woman  to  do  this.  I  dreaded  to  have  with  me  the 
kind  Vail  would  have  sent.  I  am  delighted  —  truly  I 
am,  and  nothing  shall  occur  to  cause  you  any  regret." 

"We  go  tonight?  —  I  shall  need  clothing." 

"  Of  course;  that  was  what  this  money  was  advanced 
for,  to  outfit  us.  How  much  will  you  need  ?  " 

She  thought  a  moment,  a  little  line  of  perplexity 

89 


GORDON  CRAIG 

between  her  eyes,  finally  naming  a  sum  which  surprised 
me. 

"  Not  more  than  that?  "  I  exclaimed.  "  Surely  that 
is  not  enough." 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  is,"  laughing.  "  There  will  be  no  dress- 
ing. All  I  need  do  is  appear  neat." 

We  sat  there  and  talked  it  over,  deciding  exactly  our 
course  of  action.  At  nine  o'clock  I  left  her,  hunted 
up  the  nearest  bank  and  got  change  for  my  bill.  Then 
I  gave  her  the  amount  asked,  and  we  separated,  to  meet 
again  late  that  afternoon  at  the  depot.  I  felt  no  doubt 
as  to  her  being  there  on  time.  My  day  was  a  busy 
one,  as  I  had  to  visit  my  boarding  house,  buy  needful 
clothing,  and  arrange  for  transportation.  At  the 
moment  specified  I  called  up  Vail  on  the  phone, 
and  he  responded  instantly,  the  very  tone  of  his 
voice  evidencing  the  relief  he  felt  at  hearing  from 
me. 

"  Began  to  think  I  had  skipped  with  the  thousand?  " 
I  asked.  "  Well,  I  have  n't,  for  the  other  nine  looks 
too  good." 

"You  are  going,  then?" 

"  Sure;  all  packed,  and  transportation  bought.  Best 
of  it  is  I  Ve  found  the  right  woman  to  go  along  with 


90 


WE  COMPLETE  ARRANGEMENTS 

"Good;  I  didn't  know  what  to  do  about  that  — 
the  one  I  had  in  mind  is  out  of  town.  Who  is  she?  " 

"  Oh,  never  mind  her  name;  she  is  all  right,  a  friend 
of  mine." 

"  Not  likely  anyone  I  know.     Where  are  you?  " 

I  told  him,  and  he  agreed  to  send  over  certain  papers 
to  me  by  messenger.  These  arrived  promptly,  and  I 
studied  them  carefully  until  nearly  train  time,  getting 
all  the  facts  firmly  implanted  in  my  mind.  Then,  my 
heart  beating  somewhat  faster  than  usual,  I  took  cab 
to  the  depot,  more  deeply  interested  I  fear  in  again 
meeting  Mrs.  Bernard,  than  in  the  adventure  itself. 
We  met  beneath  the  grim  shadow  of  the  train  shed. 


CHAPTER  X 

AT   THE    PLANTATION 

THE  events  of  the  day  had  changed  her  greatly. 
At  first,  as  she  came  toward  me  through  the  crowd 
near  the  gate,  holding  out  a  neatly  gloved  hand,  I  could 
scarcely  realise  that  this  well-dressed,  soft-voiced  lady 
was  the  homeless  creature  I  had  consorted  with  the 
night  before.  Her  eyes  laughingly  challenged  mine, 
while  the  hours  since  had  given  her  back  perfect  con- 
trol. 

"  So  you  did  not  even  know  me,"  she  said  pleasantly. 
'"  Oh,  but  you  did  not  —  you  were  passing  by  when  I 
spoke.  Don't  apologize,  for  really  I  take  it  as  the 
highest  compliment.  You  are  wonderfully  improved 
yourself.  If  I  had  ever  doubted  your  claim  to  having 
been  well  born  I  would  realize  the  truth  now.  That  is 
something  not  easily  counterfeited." 

"  And  something  evidently  you  need  never  try  to 
counterfeit,"  I  added,  forgetful  of  our  peculiar  rela- 
tions, as  I  gazed  at  the  arch  face  under  the  broad  hat 
brim.  "  Pray  how  did  you  work  such  a  marvelous 

92 


AT  THE  PLANTATION 

transformation  on  so  small  a  sum?  I  had  a  theory  mar- 
riage was  expensive." 

Her  cheeks  flamed. 

"  That  depends,"  she  replied;  "  I  had  excellent  train- 
ing. The  marvel  is  even  greater  than  you  suppose,  for 
behold  this  case  also  filled  with  necessities.  Is  this  our 
train?" 

"  Yes,"  and  I  took  up  the  grip  she  designated  as 
hers.  "  Let  us  get  settled  and  into  the  diner,  for  I 
am  hungry  as  a  wolf." 

I  had  procured  opposite  sections,  and,  before  retir- 
ing, we  studied  the  papers,  together  with  Vail's  letter 
of  instruction,  and  thus  came  to  a  complete  understand- 
ing. She  was  quick-witted,  and  spoke  frankly,  and 
yet,  when  I  finally  lay  down  in  my  berth  I  felt  less 
well  acquainted  with  her  than  before.  Somehow,  in 
a  manner  inexplainable,  a  vague  barrier  had  arisen  be- 
tween us.  I  could  not  trace  it  to  any  word  or  action  on 
her  part,  and  yet  I  felt  held  away  as  by  an  invisible 
hand.  Her  very  cordiality  exhibited  a  reserve  which 
made  me  clearly  comprehend  that  the  slightest  famil- 
iarity would  be  checked.  Evidently  she  had  deter- 
mined coolly  to  carry  out  the  deceit,  to  act  her  part 
to  perfection,  because  of  the  reward,  and  she  meant  I 

93 


GORDON  CRAIG 

should  comprehend  her  exact  position.  I  fell  asleep 
dissatisfied,  half  believing  she  was  also  playing  a  part 
with  me,  although  it  was  impossible  to  conceive  her 
purpose.  The  conception  even  came  that  she  was  her- 
self an  adventuress,  yet  I  throttled  the  thought  in- 
stantly, unwilling  to  harbor  it. 

It  was  at  the  close  of  the  following  afternoon  when 
our  train  reached  Carrollton.  The  depot  must  have 
been  a  mile  from  the  town,  and  very  few  people  were 
upon  the  platform,  two  drummers  and  ourselves  the 
only  ones  to  disembark.  The  traveling  men  hastened 
to  the  nearest  hack,  while  I  glanced  about  in  search  of  a 
conveyance.  The  only  other  vehicle  present  was  a  two- 
seated  surrey,  driven  by  a  rather  disreputable  negro. 
I  approached  in  some  doubt 

"  No,  sah,"  he  said,  grinning/  "  Dis  yere  am  my 
own  curridge,  sah ;  tain't  nuthin'  ter  do  wid  de  Henley 
plantation.  I  reckon  dey  done  did  n't  git  no  telegram. 
Dey  sure  did  n't  less  dey  wus  oxpectin'  one,  an'  cum 
inter  town  after  it.  Yes,  sah,  I  know  whar  de  place 
am  all  right.  I  done  worked  dar  onct.  I  reckon 
you  'se  Massa  Philip  Henley,  sah;  though  you  Ve  sure 
growd  some  since  I  saw  you  de  las'  time.  I  'se  oP 
Pete,  sah;  I  reckon  you  remembers  oP  Pete." 

"  Of  course  I  do,"  I  returned  heartily,  encouraged 

94 


AT  THE  PLANTATION 

by  his  words  to  believe  I  would  pass  muster.  "  Can 
you  drive  us  out?  " 

The  negro  scratched  his  head. 

"  I  reckon  as  how  I  can,  sah,  leastwise  so  far  as 
ther  gate.  It 's  ijoing  to  be  plum  dark  when  we  gits 
dar,  an'  dis  nigger  don't  fool  round  dar  none  in  de 
dark." 

"  Why,  what 's  the  trouble,  Pete?  " 

"  Cause  ol'  Massa  Henley's  ghost  was  hangin'  round, 
sah.  I  ain't  nebber  seen  it  myself,  an'  I  don't  want  to, 
for  he  was  sure  bad  'nough  alive,  but  dar  's  niggers  what 
has." 

"  Oh,  pshaw,"  I  laughed,  turning  toward  the  silent 
girl.  "  We  will  risk  the  ghost  if  you  '11  drive  us  out. 
Put  in  the  grips." 

"  Yes,  sah.     I  reckon  this  yere  am  de  new  missus." 

"  Yes,"  and  I  assisted  her  into  the  rear  seat. 
"  That 's  all ;  now  jog  along." 

He  climbed  into  his  place,  but  with  no  special  alac- 
rity; but  whipped  his  team  into  a  swift  trot,  evidently 
anxious  to  complete  the  trip  as  early  as  possible.  I 
glanced  aside  at  my  companion,  observing  the  paleness 
of  her  face. 

"  Surely  you  are  not  afraid  of  the  negro's  ghost?  "  I 
questioned. 

95 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  Oh,  no,  but  the  strangeness  of  it  all  has  got  on 
my  nerves.  I  did  not  suppose  it  would  be  so  hard, 
and  —  and  I  am  not  so  sure  now  that  we  ought  to  do 
this." 

"  But  that  is  foolish,"  I  insisted,  a  bit  angrily.  "  We 
talked  it  all  over,  you  know,  and  no  harm  can  be  done, 
except  through  our  discovery.  Don't  fail  me  now." 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  going  to  fail,"  indignantly.  "  The 
ride  will  steady  my  nerves,"  she  leaned  forward  whis- 
pering, her  head  inclined  toward  the  front  seat.  "  Per- 
haps he  can  tell  us  who  we  shall  meet  there?  " 

"  Pete,"  I  asked,  "  who  is  out  there  now?  " 

The  negro  turned,  so  I  could  see  the  whites  of  his 
eyes. 

"  At  de  Henley  plantation,  sah  ?  Why,  I  reckon  de 
oberseer  an'  de  housekeeper  —  both  white  folks.  I 
done  don't  know  just  who  dey  am  fer  shure,  cause  dey 
don't  stay  long  no  more.  I  reckon  dey  can't  abide  dat 
ghost,  sah,  an'  de  field  han's  dey  won't  stay  on  de  place 
at  all  after  dark." 

"  The  overseer  and  housekeeper  then  are  newly  em- 
ployed?" 

"  Dem  am  de  fac's,  sah.  Deh  ain't  been  dar  no 
time  at  all,  an'  I  reckon  as  how  dey  won't  stay  long, 
though  de  niggers  say  de  oberseer  am  a  hell  ob  a  man," 


AT  THE  PLANTATION 

Here  was  a  pleasant  situation  surely.  While  the 
conditions  were  favorable  enough  so  far  as  our  pur- 
pose was  concerned,  yet  I  fervently  wished  we  had 
postponed  our  arrival  until  daylight.  While  the 
negro's  ghost  had  no  terrors  for  me  —  indeed,  merely 
afforded  amusement  —  I  realized  my  companion  was 
not  so  indifferent.  She  pressed  closer  to  me  in  the 
narrow  seat,  her  eyes  on  the  dusky  shadows.  I  en- 
deavored to  laugh  away  her  fears,  but  got  little  re- 
sponse. The  road  was  a  lonely  one,  although  appar- 
ently well  traveled,  bordered  by  rail  fences  and 
deserted-looking  fields.  Once  we  passed  through  a 
swamp,  and  skirted  the  edge  of  timber.  Then  we 
turned  to  the  right  into  a  branch  track,  where  low 
bushes  brushed  our  wheels.  By  this  time  it  was  quite 
dark,  and  Pete  was  obliged  to  hold  in  his  horses.  There 
was  a  quarter  moon  in  the  sky,  just  enough  to  give 
everything  a  spectral  look,  with  no  human  habitation 
visible,  and  owls  hooting  dismally  in  the  distance.  It 
was  uncanny  in  the  extreme,  and  even  I  felt  the  desola- 
tion, and  became  silent.  Pete  whistled  stoutly,  but  with- 
out enthusiasm,  occasionally  turning  his  head  to  make 
sure  we  were  still  there.  I  could  hear  her  quick  breath- 
ing, and  feel  an  occasional  clutch  of  her  fingers  on  my 
sleeve  at  some  unusual  sound.  Suddenly  the  negro 
7  97 


GORDON  CRAIG 

pulled  up  before  a  high  hedge,  and  I  perceived  the 
white  glimmer  of  a  gate  opposite  us,  the  black  shadow 
of  trees  beyond. 

"  Here  we  am,  sah,"  he  whispered,  glancing  about 
fearful,  "  an'  de  good  Lord  knows  I  'se  glad  tain't  no 
furder.  You  just  han'  me  a  dollar,  sah,  an'  den  I  'se 
goin'  fur  to  git  out  o'  dis." 

"  Is  that  the  house  in  there?  " 

"  Suah,  you  ought  for  to  know  dat  Tain't  changed 
none,  'cept  run  down  a  bit,  far  as  I  know.  Here  am 
your  grips,  sah." 

We  had  no  sooner  alighted  than  he  wheeled  his  team, 
and  departed,  whipping  the  horses  into  a  run.  I  felt 
her  hand  grip  my  sleeve,  and  glanced  aside  into  her 
face. 

"  Frightened?  "  I  asked,  endeavoring  to  speak  eas- 
ily. "  Don't  let  that  fellow  bother  you;  surely  you  do 
not  believe  in  spooks?  " 

"  No,"  her  voice  trembling,  "  but  it  is  all  so  deso- 
late. I  —  I  wish  we  had  waited  until  daylight." 

"  Well,  frankly,  so  do  I,"  I  responded,  "  but  the 
thought  comes  too  late.  There  is  nothing  left  us  but 
to  try  the  house ;  we  cannot  pass  the  night  out  here." 

"No,  oh,  no!" 

"  Then  come  on,"  and  I  picked  up  the  suit  cases. 


AT  THE  PLANTATION 

"  We  will  probably  be  laughing  at  ourselves  in  five  min- 
utes.    You  will  have  to  unlatch  the  gate." 

It  was  held  in  place  by  a  sagging  rope,  but  opened 
noiselessly,  and  we  advanced  onto  a  brick  walk,  so 
little  used  as  to  be  half  hidden  by  weeds  growing  in 
the  crevices.  The  moon  dimly  revealed  rank  vegeta- 
tion on  either  side,  while  ahead,  beneath  the  tree  shad- 
ows, the  darkness  was  profound.  There  was  no  sound, 
no  faintest  gleam  of  light  to  indicate  the  house,  and  I 
was  compelled  to  advance  cautiously  to  keep  to  the 
path,  which  apparently  wound  about  in  the  form  of 
a  letter  "  S."  We  were  at  the  foot  of  the  front  steps, 
the  building  itself  looming  black  before  us,  almost  be- 
fore we  realized  its  nearness.  I  could  perceive  the 
outlines  indistinctly,  and  the  deserted  desolation  affected 
me  strangely.  Perhaps  some  of  the  negro's  supersti- 
tion had  got  into  my  blood,  for  I  felt  my  heart  leap 
when  the  girl  suddenly  sobbed,  clutching  me  in  an  agony 
of  fear.  Yet  the  very  knowledge  of  her  fright  stiffened 
my  resolution,  and  I  dropped  the  grips  to  clasp  both 
her  hands. 

"Don't!"  I  insisted.  "I  know  the  place  looks 
leery  enough,  but  Pete  said  the  overseer  and  house- 
keeper were  here.  Doubtless  they  are  in  the  back 
rooms.  Wait  here  until  I  go  up  and  rouse  them." 

99 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  Oh,  no;  I  could  not  stand  it  to  be  left  alone." 

"  All  right;  here,  take  my  hand,  and  we  '11  go  up  to- 
gether." 

They  were  broad  wooden  steps,  leading  to  a  wide 
porch,  the  roof  supported  by  heavy  columns.  Beyond 
was  the  dark  bulk  of  the  house,  shapeless  in  the  gloom. 
We  were  within  a  single  step  of  the  top  when  a  man  — 
seemingly  a  huge  figure  —  suddenly  emerged  from  the 
shadow  of  a  column,  and  confronted  us. 

"  What  ther  hell,"  he  ejaculated  sullenly,  "  are  you 
doin'here?" 

I  paused  with  foot  uplifted,  too  astounded  at  the 
apparition  to  respond,  conscious  my  companion  had 
shrunk  behind. 

"  Well,  speak  up !  "  growled  the  voice.  "  What 's 
wanted?  " 

It  was  not  in  my  nature  to  fear  men,  and  this  was 
evidently  a  man.  I  could  feel  the  warm  blood  surge 
back  to  my  heart. 

"  You  surely  startled  me,  friend,"  I  explained.  "  Arc 
you  the  overseer?  " 

"  I  reckon  I  am,  but  what  I  want  to  know  is,  who  you 
are?" 

"  I?  "  striving  to  regain  my  wits.  ;'  Why,  I  am  — 

100 


AT  THE  PLANTATION 

am  Philip  Henley;  we  —  we  have  just  got  in  from  the 
North." 

"  How  did  you  git  out  yere?  " 

"  A  negro  drove  us  from  the  station  —  old  Pete  who 
worked  here  once ;  maybe  you  know  him  ?  " 

The  man  grunted. 

"  What  become  of  the  nigger?  " 

"  He  simply  dumped  us  out  at  the  gate,  and  drove 
back  as  though  the  devil  was  after  him.  He  said  the 
place  was  haunted." 

"  And  he  hit  it  about  right  at  that,  as  yeY  likely  to 
find  out  afore  mornin'.  Is  that  a  woman  with  you?  " 

'  Yes  —  may  we  come  in  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  reckon  I  ain't  got  no  license  to  turn  yer 
away,  if  yer  mind  ter  risk  it.  Lord  knows  I  'm  willin' 
'nough  to  hav'  company.  Git  yer  duds,  an'  I  '11  light 
up,  so  yer  kin  see  a  bit." 

He  disappeared,  and  I  lugged  the  grips  to  the  top 
of  the  steps,  where  we  waited.  Then  a  faint  light 
streamed  out  through  the  open  door,  a  moment  later 
outlining  his  figure. 

"  Come  on  in,"  he  said,  still  gruffly.  "  Yer  don't 
need  be  afeerd  o'  me,  mam,  and  the  housekeeper  be 
yere  directly." 

101 


GORDON  CRAIG 

I  confess  I  entered  the  dim  hall  reluctantly,  obsessed 
by  some  strange  premonition  of  danger,  but  Mrs.  Ber- 
nard clung  to  me,  and  the  sight  of  her  white  face  gave 
me  new  courage. 


102 


CHAPTER  XI 

A   PLEASANT   WELCOME 

IT  was  an  old-fashioned  living  room  into  which  we 
entered,  the  floor  unswept,  the  chairs  faded  and 
patched.  Curtains  were  drawn  closely  at  the  windows, 
while  the  single  oil  lamp  stood  on  a  center  table  lit- 
tered with  old  newspapers.  I  dropped  the  grips  on 
the  carpet,  not  so  much  interested  in  my  surroundings 
as  in  the  appearance  of  the  man  in  charge.  The  shad- 
ing of  the  light  gave  me  only  a  partial  view  of  the 
fellow,  but  he  was  big,  loose-jointed,  having  enormous 
shoulders,  his  face  so  hidden  by  a  heavy  mustache,  and 
low  drawn  hat  brim,  I  could  scarcely  perceive  its  out- 
line. He  appeared  a  typical  rough,  wearing  high 
boots,  with  an  ugly-looking  Colt  in  a  belt  holster. 

"  Where  are  you  from?  "  I  asked,  surprised  at  this 
display  of  firearms. 

;<  Texas,"    with    a    grin,    not    altogether    pleasant. 
11  That 's  an  ol'  friend." 

"  No  doubt,  but  I  see  no  sense  in  wearing  it  here. 
What  are  you  afraid  of?  " 

103 


GORDON  CRAIG 

He  stroked  his  mustache,  eyeing  me. 

"  Wall,  personally,  stranger,  I  ain't  greatly  feerd 
o'  nuthm',  but  I  wus  hired  fer  to  keep  people  outer  this 
shebang.  There  ain't  no  work  goin'  on,  so  I  don't  hav' 
no  niggers  to  keep  folks  out." 

"  Who  employed  you?  " 

"  That  don't  make  no  difference.  Those  wus  my 
orders  —  not  to  talk,  nor  let  enybody  hang  'round  ex- 
cept you  folks." 

"  Then  we  were  excepted?  "  in  surprise. 

"  Sure;  I  reckon  yer  'd  a  been  hoofin'  it  up  the  road 
long  afore  this  otherwise.  Still,  I  dunno,"  with  a  sug- 
gestive wink,  "  I  've  got  a  likin'  fer  pretty  girls." 

I  glanced  at  her,  where  she  had  sank  down  on  a  di- 
lapidated sofa,  but  no  expression  of  her  face  told  me 
she  had  overheard.  It  was  the  man's  wink,  more  than 
his  language,  which  angered  me. 

"  Cut  out  your  references  to  the  lady,"  I  said  in  a  low 
tone,  "  unless  you  are  starting  in  for  trouble." 

"  Oh,  skittish,  hey !  Wai,  stranger,  I  never  run 
away  frum  no  treble  yet,  an'  I  reckon  I  don't  begin  now. 
Besides,  yer  need  n't  ride  no  high  hoss  with  me.  I  'm 
on  ter  your  game." 

His  words  sufficed  to  silence  my  batteries.     I  felt 

104 


A  PLEASANT  WELCOME 

no  fear  of  the  man,  big  as  he  was  and  armed,  but  the 
thought  that  he  might  have  been  sent  there  by  either 
Neale  or  Vail,  and  informed  of  the  conspiracy,  made  me 
cautious  about  angering  him.  I  must  discover  first  the 
exact  situation  before  locking  horns  with  this  Texas 
steer. 

"  Oh,  do  you !  "  I  returned  carelessly.  "  All  right, 
then,  we  '11  let  it  go  at  that;  only  please  remember  the 
lady  is  under  my  protection.  What  is  your  name?  " 

"  Coombs,"  in  better  humor,  feeling  he  had  bluffed 
me.  "  Bill  Coombs." 

"  Can  we  have  a  bit  of  lunch?  " 

"  I  reckon  yer  can.  Ol'  Sally  is  a  rustlin'  some  grub 
now.  I  stirred  her  up  when  I  furst  cum  in." 

He  sat  down  cross-legged  on  a  chair  the  other  side 
the  littered  table,  and  stared  at  us,  his  hat  still  drawn 
down  over  his  eyes.  Whether  the  fellow  knew  no  bet- 
ter or  was  deliberately  insolent,  I  could  not  clearly  de- 
termine. However,  it  was  easy  to  perceive  the  girl 
was  alarmed,  and  my  thought  was  with  her.  This  un- 
mannerly brute  could  wait  until  we  were  alone  for  his 
lesson.  I  had  handled  worse  men  than  him  in  my  time, 
and  I  proposed  finding  out  before  we  retired  who  was 
master.  So  when  he  even  rolled  and  lit  a  cigarette, 

105 


eyeing  me  closely  during  the  operation,  I  pretended  to 
take  no  notice,  but  spoke  to  her  quietly,  in  a  voice  which 
would  not  carry  across  the  room. 

"  Don't  mind  him,"  I  whispered.  "  He  's  only  a 
rough-neck  trying  to  bully  a  bit.  I  '11  teach  him  his 
place  before  tomorrow." 

"  It  is  not  the  man  so  much,"  she  replied,  giving 
me  a  glimpse  of  her  eyes.  "  But  it  is  all  so  desolate 
and  gloomy.  I  have  never  been  superstitious,  but  that 
negro's  fear  actually  gave  me  the  creeps.  I  have  been 
seeing  shadows  ever  since." 

I  laughed  lightly,  touching  her  hand. 

"  Still  we  've  found  nothing  else  than  live  ones. 
Shadows  won't  hurt  us,  and  this  place  will  look  better 
by  daylight." 

"  You  have  n't  any  nerves." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  have;  only  they  are  trained.  I  didn't 
anticipate  an  easy  job  when  I  came  down  here.  It 's  as- 
sumed a  different  form,  that 's  all." 

"You  do  not  like  it?" 

"  Not  altogether,"  I  admitted.  "  I  am  beginning  to 
wonder  if  those  fellows  were  square,  if  they  gave  me 
the  straight  story.  Coombs'  words  would  seem  to  in- 
dicate that  he  knows  I  'm  a  fraud.  Perhaps  he  did  n't 
mean  that,  but  it  sounded  so.  Why  should  they  tell 

106 


A  PLEASANT  WELCOME 

that  rough-neck  their  plans,  and  send  him  down  here? 
I  '11  find  out  what  he  knows,  and  how  he  knows  it, 
before  another  ten  hours.  If  he  's  here  to  spy  on  us 
I  '11  make  him  earn  his  money." 

She  did  not  look  around. 

"  Are  —  are  you  just  beginning  to  doubt  what  those 
men  told  you?  " 

"  Doubt!  "  in  surprise.  "No;  I  don't  know  that  I 
do.  But  I  don't  like  to  be  mistrusted  and  watched. 
Why?  Do  you  think  they  are  double-crossing  us?  " 

"  I  've  —  I  Ve  taken  your  word,"  she  said  quickly. 
"  But  it  has  never  seemed  quite  right  to  me.  I  —  I 
hardly  know  why  I  consented  to  come,  only  I  was  so 
miserable,  anything  seemed  better  than  the  life  I  was 
leading." 

"  You  saw  all  the  papers,"  I  interposed,  "  and  they 
bear  out  every  statement." 

"  Yes,  but  could  they  not  be  forged?  Why  should 
any  honest  lawyer  advise  a  client  to  undertake  such  a 
fraud?" 

"  Why,  really  I  do  not  know,"  I  returned,  looking 
at  her  in  astonishment.  "  Of  course  it  does  seem  queer, 
but  the  case  is  a  peculiar  one,  and,  perhaps,  can  be 
solved  in  no  strictly  legal  way.  If  you  felt  so  about  it, 
why  did  you  not  say  so  before?  " 

107 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  Don't  get  angry  —  please.  I  hardly  think  I  was 
myself  then.  It  was  just  an  impulse  I  could  not  re- 
sist to  get  away  from  the  past.  I  was  desperate  enough 
then  for  anything.  I  don't  think  I  cared  whether  it 
was  right  or  wrong.  But  on  the  train  I  lay  awake  and 
thought  it  all  over,  and  —  and  I  would  have  gone  back 
then  if  I  could.  I  am  sorry,  so  sorry,  but  I  am  thor- 
oughly ashamed  of  myself  —  here,  as  I  am." 

a  You  mean,  pretending  to  be  my  wife?  " 

"Yes;  that  —  that  is  bad  enough,  surely.  I  must 
have  been  crazy  to  ever  consent.  Even  if  the  truth  is 
never  known  I  can  no  longer  respect  myself.  But  — 
but  that  is  not  all  —  we  are  actually  criminals,  engaged 
in  a  criminal  plot.  Because  the  plan  was  concocted  by 
a  lawyer  makes  no  difference.  We  could  be  arrested, 
imprisoned." 

"  I  supposed  you  understood." 

"  No  doubt  I  did,  but  my  brain  was  numbed;  I  could 
not  comprehend.  It  was  not  your  fault,  but  mine;  I 
do  not  blame  you.  Only,  must  we  go  on?  " 

'  We  shall  have  to  play  out  the  game  tonight,  at 
least,"  I  said,  startled  by  her  earnestness.  "  I  will  talk 
with  Coombs,  and  will  tell  you  the  result  tomorrow. 
Your  nerves  are  all  unstrung,  and  the  affair  may  appear 
different  by  daylight." 

108 


A  PLEASANT  WELCOME 

She  put  her  hand  in  mine,  her  eyes  on  my  face. 

"  No;  it  is  not  my  nerves.  See,  my  hand  does  not 
tremble;  I  am  not  afraid  physically.  I  Ve  simply  come 
to  myself;  I  'm  convinced  we  're  doing  wrong." 

"  But  you  will  wait  until  morning?  until  I  have 
talked  with  Coombs?  "  I  asked  anxiously. 

"  Yes,"  after  an  instant's  hesitation.  "  There  is 
nothing  else  I  can  do." 

The  Texan  got  noisily  to  his  feet,  and  swaggered 
across  the  floor. 

"  If  you  all  hav'  got  through  yer  whisperin',"  he  said 
roughly,  "  I  reckon  Sally  's  got  ther  grub  laid  out." 

I  bit  my  lips  to  keep  back  a  hot  reply,  feeling  the 
restraint  of  her  eyes,  and  we  followed  him  into  the 
next  room.  The  table  was  set  for  two,  and  I  could 
distinguish  the  shadow  of  a  woman  standing  motionless 
in  the  farther  corner.  The  dim  light  barely  revealed 
her  outlines. 

'  Yer  kin  talk  it  out  yere,"  announced  Coombs,  wav- 
ing one  hand,  "  cause  I  won't  be  present,  havin'  et  al- 
ready. I  reckon  Sally  won't  interfere  none." 

He  slammed  the  door  viciously  going  out,  causing  the 
lamp  to  sputter.  Then  the  woman  came  silently  for- 
ward, a  coffeepot  in  her  hand.  She  was  a  mulatto 
perhaps  sixty  years  of  age,  her  face  scarred  by  small- 

109 


GORDON  CRAIG 

pox,  and  with  strangely  furtive  eyes.  Somehow  she 
fitted  into  the  scene,  and  I  saw  my  companion  gazing 
at  her  almost  with  horror,  as  she  flitted  about  us  silently 
as  a  specter.  I  endeavored  to  talk,  while  eating  heart- 
ily, for  I  was  hungry,  but  found  it  difficult  to  arouse 
Mrs.  Bernard  to  any  response,  and  she  merely  toyed 
with  her  food.  In  despair  I  turned  to  the  other,  hopeful 
that  a  question  or  two  might  dissolve  the  spell. 

"  You  are  the  housekeeper,  I  believe?  " 

She  favored  me  with  a  single  glance  of  surprise. 

"  Yes." 

"  Have  you  been  here  sometime?  " 

"  No." 

"  You  probably  knew  the  old  Judge?  " 

"  No." 

Her  monosyllabic  answers  were  perfectly  colorless, 
and,  with  this  last,  she  picked  up  an  empty  dish,  and 
vanished.  I  endeavored  to  laugh,  but  there  was  no  re- 
sponse in  the  eyes  of  the  woman  opposite.  She  dropped 
her  fork,  and  pushed  back  her  chair. 

"  Oh,  I  simply  cannot  stand  this  place !  "  she  ex- 
claimed. '  There  is  something  perfectly  horrid  about 
it,  and  —  and  the  people.  How  shall  I  ever  get 
through  the  night?" 

;<  That  is  nothing,"  I  soothed,  although  hardly  at 

no 


A  PLEASANT  WELCOME 

ease  myself.  "  She  is  evidently  of  the  taciturn  sort. 
We  don't  need  to  keep  these  servants,  you  know.  I  '11 
hunt  up  some  more  cheerful  in  town  tomorrow. 
Why,  by  Jove,  it's  ten  o'clock  already.  Have  you 
finished?" 

"  I  could  n't  choke  down  another  mouthful." 

"  Well,  don't  be  afraid.  They  mean  well  enough, 
no  doubt.  Sallie !  " 

She  came  gliding  in,  her  back  to  the  door. 

"  Are  you  the  one  who  is  to  show  us  to  our  rooms  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

She  picked  up  the  lamp  and  went  out,  and  Mrs.  Ber- 
nard followed  instantly,  evidently  afraid  to  be  left  in 
the  dark.  I  followed  with  the  grips,  trailing  up  the 
stairs,  having  seen  nothing  of  Coombs  in  the  front  room. 
In  the  upper  hall  our  guide  threw  open  two  doors,  go- 
ing into  the  rooms  and  lighting  lamps,  thus  giving 
glimpses  of  the  interiors.  The  one  in  the  corner  was 
the  larger,  and  better  furnished. 

'  This  will  be  yours,"  I  said,  placing  her  valise  on 
the  floor.  '  You  can  feel  safe  enough  there  with  the 
door  locked  —  yes,  there  is  a  key  —  and  I  will  be  right 
opposite  if  you  need  anything." 

She  gave  me  her  hand,  but  I  felt  it  tremble. 

"You  are  still  afraid?" 

in 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  Yes,  I  am  —  but  —  but  I  am  not  going  to  be  such 
a  fool." 

As  her  door  closed  I  turned  to  the  mulatto,  who  still 
stood  there,  lamp  in  hand.  I  was  not  sleepy,  and  I 
wanted  most  of  all  to  have  an  understanding  with 
Coombs.  I  could  not  talk  with,  the  fellow  in  the  pres- 
ence of  Mrs.  Bernard,  for  he  was  the  kind  to  be  handled 
roughly  for  results,  but  now  I  was  ready  to  probe  him 
to  the  bottom.  "  Is  the  overseer  downstairs?  " 

"  No." 

"  See  here,  Sallie,"  I  insisted  warmly,  "  I  'm  master 
of  this  house  and  I  want  some  kind  of  answer  besides 
yes  and  no.  Where  is  he?  " 

"  Ah  reckon  he  's  out  in  one  o'  ther  cabins,  sah  — 
he  done  don't  sleep  in  the  house  nohow." 

"  He  does  n't  sleep  here !     Why?  " 

"  Ah  spect  it 's  cause  he  's  afeerd  too,  sah,"  she  re- 
plied, her  snaky  eyes  showing.  "  Ah  's  a  voo-doo,  an' 
ah  don't  care  'bout  'em  tall,  but  good  Lor',  dar  ain't  no 
white  man  wants  ter  stay  in  des  yere  house  mor'n  one 
night." 

She  laughed,  a  weird,  grating  laugh,  and  started 
downstairs.  I  stood  still,  watching  her  light  disap- 
pear. Then,  swearing  at  myself  for  a  coward,  stepped 
back  into  my  own  room,  and  closed  the  door. 

112 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE    DEAD    MAN 

THIS  revealment  of  conditions  left  me  thoroughly 
puzzled.  I  was  not  frightened  at  the  situation, 
for  I  largely  attributed  the  fear  shown  by  both  Pete 
and  Sallie  to  negro  superstition.  I  could  have  dis- 
missed their  faith  in  a  haunted  house  with  a  smile, 
and  gone  to  sleep  myself  with  an  easy  conscience,  confi- 
dent that  a  noisy  wind,  or  a  hooting  owl,  was  the  sum 
and  substance  of  all  the  trouble.  But  Bill  Coombs 
was  a  very  different  proposition.  He  was  of  the  hard- 
headed  kind,  not  to  be  easily  alarmed  by  visionary 
terrors,  and  yet  he  was  manifestly  afraid  to  sleep  in 
the  house.  I  was  sufficiently  acquainted  with  his  type 
to  comprehend  there  must  be  some  real  cause  driving 
him  to  retreat  to  the  negro  cabins  for  rest.  He  was 
a  rough  of  the  Southwest,  illiterate  of  course,  but  a 
practical  fellow,  and,  without  doubt,  a  gun-fighter. 
He  had  been  employed  because  of  these  very  char- 
acteristics, and  it  would  require  surely  a  very  real 
ghost  to  drive  him  away. 


GORDON  CRAIG 

I  sat  there  for  some  time  smoking,  endeavoring  to 
think  it  all  over  coolly,  and  listening  intently.  At 
first  I  could  distinguish  the  rattle  of  dishes  down- 
stairs, as  Sallie  cleared  the  table,  and,  a  little  later, 
heard  Mrs.  Bernard  moving  about  uneasily  in  her  room 
across  the  hall.  But  at  last  these  sounds  ceased,  and 
the  house  became  still.  I  removed  a  portion  of  my 
clothing  and  lay  down  on  the  bed,  a  certain  uneasiness 
preventing  me  from  undressing  entirely.  I  was  tired, 
but  with  little  inclination  for  sleep.  The  room  was 
large,  the  furniture  of  old  style  and  well  worn,  the 
light  of  the  small  hand  lamp  leaving  much  of  the  spa- 
cious apartment  in  shadow.  It  was  not  only  imagina- 
tion which  kept  me  wakeful,  but  the  dim  suspicion  en- 
gendered in  my  mind  by  what  Mrs.  Bernard  had  said 
below.  Could  there  be  any  truth  in  her  questioning  of 
the  motives  actuating  the  man  who  had  sent  us  here? 
Had  we  come  —  mere  pawns  in  some  game  of  crime 
—  deceived,  perhaps  betrayed  to  arrest?  Was 
Coombs  here  merely  to  watch  us,  and  report  to  Neale 
and  Vail  how  we  carried  out  our  part  of  the  bargain? 
The  affair  certainly  looked  altogether  different  now 
I  was  upon  the  ground,  although  I  could  figure  out 
no  possible  object  those  men  could  have.  At  least 
they  could  accomplish  nothing  without  my  cooperation, 

114 


and,  If  I  discovered  any  evil  afoot,  I  could  block  them 
instantly.  I  was  there  to  save  this  property  for  the 
rightful  heir,  and  was  determined  now  to  see  that 
Philip  Henley  received  all  that  was  due  him.  It  was 
after  one  o'clock  before  I  fell  into  a  drowsy  sleep. 

Indeed,  it  hardly  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  entirely 
lost  consciousness,  when  I  was  jerked  bolt  upright  by 
the  sharp  report  of  a  firearm.  For  a  single  instant 
I  imagined  the  shot  fired  within  my  room;  then  I 
sprang  to  the  door,  and  flung  it  open,  peering  out  into 
the  hall.  Everything  was  still,  the  rays  from  my  lamp 
barely  extending  to  the  head  of  the  stairs.  I  could 
neither  see,  nor  hear  anything,  and  yet  I  had  a  strange 
premonition  that  I  was  not  alone.  There  was  an 
automatic  revolver  in  the  pocket  of  my  coat,  and  I 
stepped  back  after  it,  picking  up  the  lamp  on  my  return, 
determined  on  a  thorough  examination  of  the  upper 
story.  There  was  no  doubt  about  the  shot  —  the 
sound  was  no  effect  of  a  dream.  I  wondered  if  the 
girl  had  been  awakened  by  the  report,  and  paused  to 
listen  at  her  door,  but  no  sound  reached  me  from  with- 
in. The  thought  that  she  might  have  discharged  the 
weapon  occurred  to  my  mind,  but  was  as  instantly  dis- 
missed, as  I  was  convinced  she  possessed  nothing  of 
the  kind. 


GORDON  CRAIG 

I  moved  down  the  hall  cautiously,  regretting  the 
need  of  a  lamp,  but  the  place  was  strange,  and  I  dare 
not  venture  about  in  the  dark.  Old  as  the  house  was, 
there  was  no  creaking  of  boards  underfoot,  and, 
strain  my  ears  as  I  would,  not  the  slightest  sound 
reached  me. 

The  first  doors  I  came  to  were  ajar,  but  the  moon 
was  at  the  back  of  the  house,  and  I  was  obliged  to 
enter  each  apartment,  and  flash  my  light  into  the  cor- 
ners to  make  sure  they  were  vacant.  These  were  me- 
dium-sized bedrooms,  comfortably  furnished,  although 
containing  nothing  new.  Only  one  exhibited  any  evi- 
dence of  late  occupancy,  being  in  considerable  disorder, 
the  bed  unmade,  some  discarded  garments  strewn  about 
the  floor.  I  prowled  about  within  this  room  for  some 
time,  even  invading  the  closet,  but  discovered  nothing 
more  suspicious  than  a  loaded  revolver  in  a  bureau 
drawer,  together  with  some  torn  letters,  and  an  old 
newspaper.  This  was  a  local  sheet,  containing  a  no- 
tice of  the  death  of  Judge  Henley,  which  I  took  time 
to  read.  The  letters  were  in  such  scraps  I  could  not 
even  decipher  the  address. 

One  fact,  however,  was  revealed  —  some  man  had 
been  sleeping  up  here  lately,  and  it  was  not  Coombs,  but 
a  much  smaller  individual.  This  knowledge  made  me 

116 


THE  DEAD  MAN 

even  more  cautious,  as  I  tiptoed  down  the  hall,  now 
narrowed  by  the  back  stairway.  The  first  door  opened 
into  a  bath-room,  the  tub  half  full  of  dirty  water,  a 
mussed  towel  on  the  floor.  The  last  door,  leading  to 
a  room  apparently  extending  clear  across  the  rear  of  the 
house,  was  tightly  closed.  I  set  my  lamp  down  well 
out  of  sight,  and  gripped  my  revolver,  before  attempt- 
ing to  manipulate  the  knob.  It  opened  noiselessly; 
moonlight  streamed  through  one  window,  where  the 
curtain  was  not  closely  drawn,  but  the  gloom  was  too 
dense  to  reveal  much  of  the  shrouded  interior.  I  could 
dimly  perceive  a  table,  and  some  chairs,  one  overturned. 
There  was  no  movement,  however;  no  sign  of  present 
occupancy.  Convinced  as  to  this,  I  slipped  back  for  my 
lamp,  shading  the  flame  so  the  light  was  thrown  for- 
ward into  the  room.  A  single  glance  revealed  every- 
thing. The  table,  a  common  deal  affair,  contained  two 
bottles,  one  half  filled,  and  three  dirty  glasses,  to- 
gether with  a  pack  of  disreputable-looking  cards,  some 
of  these  scattered  about  the  floor.  There  was  no  other 
furniture,  and  the  walls  were  bare,  a  dirty  gray  color. 
But  what  my  eyes  rested  upon  in  sudden  horror,  was 
the  body  of  a  man,  curled  up  in  a  ball  on  the  floor  as 
a  dog  lies,  his  face  hidden  in  his  arms.  That  he  was 
dead  I  knew  at  a  glance. 

117 


GORDON  CRAIG 

I  had  seen  violent  death  often,  but  this  was  different, 
and  I  shrank  back,  staring  at  that  motionless  form 
as  though  stricken  by  paralysis.  There  was  no  move- 
ment in  the  room,  no  sound  except  the  fluttering  of  a 
curtain.  With  effort  I  gained  control  over  my  nerves, 
and  moved  slowly  forward,  placing  my  lamp  on  the 
table,  so  as  to  have  both  hands  free.  This  murder  — 
or  was  it  suicide  ?  —  had  occurred  within  ten  minutes. 
I  turned  the  man  over,  revealing  a  bearded  face,  the 
features  prominent  but  refined.  He  was  no  ordinary 
rough,  and  his  clothing  was  of  excellent  material.  He 
had  been  shot  in  the  back  of  the  head. 

It  was  murder  then  —  murder !  In  an  instant  I 
pictured  the  tragedy  exactly  as  it  must  have  occurred 
—  the  open  window,  the  overturned  chair,  the  scat- 
tered cards,  telling  the  whole  story.  Just  what  was 
the  fellow  doing  here  alone  at  that  hour  ?  Why  should 
he  have  been  killed?  Even  as  I  struggled  with  the 
horror,  a  sudden  gust  of  wind  extinguished  the  lamp, 
and  I  gripped  the  table,  staring  about  in  the  haunted 
darkness.  A  moment  and  my  eyes  adapted  themselves 
to  the  new  environment,  the  moonlight  streaming 
through  the  open  window,  and  across  the  man's  body. 
With  heart  quaking  like  a  frightened  girl,  I  stole  across 
the  floor,  and  glanced  out.  A  single  story  extension, 

118 


THE  DEAD  MAN 

probably  the  kitchen  roof,  was  below.  Kneeling  upon 
this  the  assassin  could  easily  fire  into  the  room.  Beyond, 
the  pale  moonshine  revealed  a  patch  of  grass,  a  weed- 
entangled  garden,  and  behind  these  a  dense  forest 
growth.  To  the  right  of  the  garden  I  could  dimly 
distinguish  a  row  of  small  cabins,  the  negro  quarters. 
Coombs  would  be  occupying  one  of  these,  and  they 
were  so  close  that,  even  if  asleep  at  the  time,  he  could 
scarcely  fail  to  hear  the  report  of  the  gun  in  the  silent 
night.  Yet  there  was  no  light  along  the  row  of  huts, 
no  sign  of  human  presence. 

All  this  was  but  a  rapid  survey,  for  I  dare  not  re- 
main there,  my  back  to  that  black  interior.  The  body 
of  the  dead  man  huddled  on  the  floor,  the  unknown 
mystery  of  the  dark  house,  filled  me  with  an  awful 
dread.  Seized  by  sudden  terror  I  caught  up  the  ex- 
tinguished lamp,  scarcely  breathing  until  again  outside 
in  the  hallway,  the  door  closed  behind  me.  Trembling 
in  every  limb  I  felt  my  way  along  through  the  darkness, 
guiding  myself  by  the  wall.  What  could  I  do  ?  What 
ought  I  to  do  ?  I  knew  nothing  of  the  house,  or  where 
to  find  the  woman;  I  was  not  even  sure  of  her  presence. 
Indeed,  the  very  memory  of  her  snaky  eyes  gave  me 
new  horror.  And  Coombs !  Suspecting  him,  as  I  did, 
it  would  be  the  height  of  folly  to  seek  him  out  yonder 

119 


GORDON  CRAIG 

in  the  dark.  There  was  nothing  left  but  to  await 
daylight;  to  remain  on  watch,  endeavoring  alone  to 
formulate  some  plan  of  future  action. 

Accustomed  as  I  was  to  danger,  the  situation  set  my 
pulses  throbbing  —  the  intense  blackness,  the  silence, 
the  memory  of  that  dead  face,  utterly  unnerving  me. 
I  imagined  things  —  a  presence  in  that  deserted  hall 
through  which  I  groped.  Some  unknown  horror 
close  at  hand,  even  a  spectral  passing  down  the  stairs. 
I  listened,  clinging  to  the  banister-rail,  feeling  again 
helplessly  for  matches.  Perhaps  the  faint  scuffling  was 
some  scurrying  rat,  or  some  puff  of  wind  in  a  chimney 
hole,  but  God  only  knows  how  glad  I  was  to  discover 
the  open  door  to  my  own  room  again.  There  were 
matches  there  on  the  table,  but  my  hand  trembled  so 
I  struck  three  before  the  wick  of  the  lamp  caught  fire. 
When  I  ventured  to  look  out  again,  holding  the  light 
so  as  to  see,  the  hall  was  desolate.  I  tiptoed  across, 
and  listened  at  her  door ;  there  was  no  sound  within. 


1 20 


CHAPTER  XIII 

I  GET  INTO  THE  GAME 

I  CREPT  back,  closed  the  door  behind  me,  and  sat 
down  facing  it.  My  hand  shook  as  I  lit  a  cigar. 
This  was  becoming  serious,  a  ghastly  tragedy,  in  the 
playing  of  which  I  scarcely  knew  my  part.  The  whole 
affair  had  seemed  so  simple  at  first,  almost  humorous. 
The  earliest  impression  being  that  it  was  no  more  than 
a  good  joke.  I  was  willing  enough  to  be  an  instru- 
ment for  keeping  certain  unknown  institutions  out  of  a 
legacy  bequeathed  them  by  a  crazy  man,  and  saving  the 
property  to  his  rightful  heirs.  Why  not?  especially 
as  the  very  administrators  themselves  considered  it  the 
proper  thing  to  do.  Of  course  a  technical  crime  was 
involved  —  I  must  pretend  to  be  another,  even  forge 
that  other's  name,  but  for  no  criminal  purpose.  I  was 
merely  paid  for  the  risk  assumed,  and  it  was  easy 
money.  Perhaps  the  years  of  rough  life  I  had  led  had 
blunted  my  sensibilities  to  large  extent  —  had  left  me 
less  capable  of  distinguishing  between  right  and  wrong, 

121 


GORDON  CRAIG 

yet,  not  until  Mrs.  Bernard  had  so  unexpectedly  voiced 
her  doubt  did  I  so  much  as  suspicion  I  was  being  made 
a  catspaw  of  for  a  criminal  end.  I  was  not  willing  to 
confess  as  much  even  now,  but  I  saw  the  affair  from  a 
new  viewpoint.  I  was  not  so  sure,  so  certain,  that  I 
understood  the  entire  truth. 

Coombs  was  no  plantation  overseer,  but  a  mere 
Texas  bully.  The  very  appearance  of  the  man  told 
that,  and  those  neglected,  weed-grown  fields  were 
another  proof.  What  was  he  here  for,  then?  And 
Sallie !  Lord,  I  could  despise  that  Texas  rough,  but 
the  snaky  eyes  of  the  woman  made  me  shiver,  and 
look  about  apprehensively.  Then  there  was  the  dead 
man  —  the  dead  man.  There  echoed  into  my  brain 
the  woman's  whisper  in  the  parlor  below,  "  I  'm  not 
afraid,  but  I  am  beginning  to  believe  we  're  doing 
wrong."  There  was  wrong  somewhere  surely  — 
cowardly  crime,  murder !  But  were  we  connected  with 
it?  Was  it  also  part  of  the  plot  in  which  we  were 
employed?  I  could  not  understand,  yet  resolved  one 
thing  clearly  —  I  would  find  out  tomorrow,  early,  be- 
fore she  had  to  be  told  the  ghastly  discovery  of  the 
night.  With  the  first  return  of  daylight  I  would  seek 
out  Coombs,  tell  him  what  I  had  seen,  and  compel  him 
to  confess  the  truth.  Then  I  should  know  how  to 

122 


I  GET  INTO  THE  GAME 

act,  how  to  approach  her,  and  explain.  My  nerves 
steadied  as  I  sat  there  in  the  silence,  and  my  mind 
drifted  to  the  woman  sleeping  across  the  hall.  Then, 
my  cigar  smoked  out,  I  also  fell  asleep  in  the  chair. 

The  gray  of  dawn  was  on  the  windows  when  I 
awoke,  my  body  aching  from  its  unnatural  position. 
For  the  instant  I  imagined  some  unusual  sound  had 
aroused  me,  yet  all  was  quiet,  the  only  noise  the  twit- 
tering of  birds  from  without.  I  closed  my  eyes  again, 
but  a  ceaseless  train  of  thought  kept  me  wide  awake, 
and,  finally,  I  got  upon  my  feet  and  looked  out  into 
the  dawn,  determining  to  explore  our  strange  surround- 
ings before  any  others  were  astir.  With  loaded  revol- 
ver in  my  pocket,  I  slipped  into  the  hall.  The  faint 
light  revealed  its  shabbiness,  the  grimy  rag  carpet, 
and  discolored  walls.  Some  spirit  of  adventure  led 
me  the  full  length  until  my  hand  was  upon  the  latch 
of  that  last  door.  I  could  not  resist  an  impulse  to 
look  upon  the  dead  man  again  by  daylight,  and  thus 
assure  myself  of  the  reality  of  what  seemed  only  a 
dream.  I  opened  the  door  slowly,  noiselessly,  and 
peered  cautiously  within.  The  light  was  strong  there, 
revealing  clearly  every  nook  and  corner  of  the  room. 
All  was  exactly  as  I  recalled  it  to  memory  —  the  stained 
walls,  the  dirty  floor,  the  table  littered  with  cards,  the 

123 


GORDON  CRAIG 

overturned  chair  and  the  motionless  body  of  the  dead 
man.  I  ventured  half  way  to  the  window,  staring  about 
at  every  sign  revealed  in  the  glare.  From  the  wound 
in  the  head  a  dark  flow  of  blood  stained  the  floor,  and, 
as  I  bent  closer,  noticed  the  eyelids  were  lowered  over 
the  dead  eyes.  Shot  as  he  had  been,  killed  instantly, 
the  hand  of  the  assassin  must  have  performed  this  act. 
Then  surely  this  killing  had  been  no  common  quarrel, 
but  a  planned  assassination,  the  culmination  of  some 
prearranged  plot. 

This  knowledge,  while  it  set  my  heart  throbbing  in 
realization  of  new  danger,  yet  served  also  to  stiffen 
my  nerves.  What  had  we  blindly  drifted  into  ?  What 
was  behind  this  lawlessness  which  could  make  murder 
commonplace?  What  mystery  lurked  about  this 
haunted,  hideous  house  where  death  skulked  in  the 
dark?  My  thought  was  not  so  much  concerned  with 
myself,  and  my  own  danger,  as  with  that  of  the  young 
woman  whom  I  was  bound  to  protect.  She  had  come 
innocently,  driven  by  desperation,  to  play  a  part  she 
already  loathed  in  this  tragedy,  and  now  I  alone  stood 
between  her  and  something  too  awful  to  contemplate. 
Now,  before  she  awoke  I  must  discover  the  truth,  and 
thus  be  prepared  to  get  her  safely  away. 

I  closed  the  door  on  the  silence,  and  stole  quietly 

124 


downstairs.  There  was  no  movement,  no  sound  in 
the  great  house.  The  front  room,  hideous  in  its  grimy 
disorder,  was  vacant,  and  I  opened  the  front  door 
noiselessly,  and  stepped  forth  into  the  spectral  gray 
light  of  the  dawn.  The  first  glimpse  about  was  de- 
pressing enough.  I  had  no  conception  of  what  I  was 
confronting,  or  of  what  was  to  be  revealed  by  my  ex- 
plorations, but  the  dismalness  of  the  picture  presented 
to  that  first  glance  gave  me  a  shock  impossible  to  ex- 
plain. The  house  itself,  big  and  glaring  as  it  was,  was 
nevertheless  little  better  than  a  ruin,  the  porch  beams 
rotten,  the  front  blinds  sagging  frightfully,  the  paint 
blistered  by  the  sun.  Several  of  the  windows  were 
broken,  and  the  steps  sagged  and  trembled  under  my 
weight.  The  front  yard,  a  full  half  acre  in  extent,  was 
a  tangled  mass  of  bushes  and  weeds,  a  high,  untrimmed 
hedge  shutting  off  all  view  of  the  road.  The  narrow 
brick  path  winding  through  this  mass  of  vegetation  was 
scarcely  discernible,  apparently  seldom,  if  ever,  used. 
I  was  unable  to  determine  the  position  of  the  gate  so 
luxuriant  was  the  weed  growth,  and  thick  the  shrubbery. 
From  the  foot  of  the  steps  a  narrow  passage  trampled 
into  the  dirt  circled  the  corner  of  the  house,  disappear- 
ing within  a  few  feet.  This  was  the  only  sign  visible 
of  human  occupancy. 

125 


Convinced  that  this  must  lead  to  the  rear,  and  pos- 
sibly the  negro  cabins  where  Coombs  slept,  I  followed 
its  tortuous  windings,  although  half  afraid  to  desert 
my  guardianship  of  the  house  even  for  this  purpose. 
Still  there  was  little  to  be  feared  so  long  as  Mrs.  Ber- 
nard remained  securely  locked  in  her  room.  I  was  freer 
for  exploration  now  than  I  would  be  later,  and  must 
know  at  once  the  conditions  with  which  we  had  to 
contend.  Beyond  doubt  the  woman  was  still  asleep, 
and,  perhaps,  by  the  time  she  aroused  and  appeared 
below  stairs  I  could  find  a  reasonable  explanation  of 
all  this  mystery  —  something  to  smile  over,  rather  than 
fear.  While  this  was  but  a  vague  hope,  it  still  yielded 
me  a  measure  of  courage  as  I  picked  my  way  cautiously 
along  the  south  side  of  the  house,  avoiding  the  windows 
as  much  as  possible,  until  I  emerged  into  a  somewhat 
clearer  space  of  ground  at  the  rear.  The  kitchen  was 
an  ell,  constructed  of  rough  boards,  but  with  shingle 
roof.  The  door  stood  ajar,  and  I  glanced  in,  only  to 
find  the  room  empty,  the  pots  and  pans  used  the  night 
before  still  unwashed. 

There  was  nothing  there  to  interest  me,  and  I  crossed 
a  narrow  space  of  grass  to  where  a  broken  picket  fence 
was  visible  amid  a  fringe  of  weeds.  No  description 
can  fitly  picture  the  gloomy  desolation  surrounding 

126 


I  GET  INTO  THE  GAME 

that  ramshackle  place.  It  got  upon  the  nerves,  the 
decay,  the  neglect  apparent  on  every  side.  The  very 
silence  seemed  depressing.  Evidently  this  fence,  now 
a  mere  ruin,  had  once  served  to  protect  a  garden  plot. 
But  I  saw  merely  a  tangled  mass  of  wild  vegetation,  so 
thick  and  high  as  to  obstruct  the  view.  Narrow  foot- 
paths branched  in  either  direction,  and  I  chose  to  fol- 
low the  one  to  the  right,  thinking  thus  to  skirt  the 
fence,  and  learn  what  was  beyond,  before  approaching 
the  negro  cabins  on  the  opposite  side.  To  my  surprise, 
I  found  myself  suddenly  standing  on  the  bank  of  a 
narrow  bayou,  the  water  clear,  yet  apparently  motion- 
less, the  opposite  shore  heavily  timbered.  Owing  to 
a  sharp  curve  I  could  see  scarcely  a  hundred  yards  in 
either  direction,  yet  close  in  beside  the  shore  a  light 
boat  was  skimming  over  the  gray  water.  Even  as  I 
gazed,  the  fellow  plying  the  paddle  saw  me,  and  waved 
his  hand.  In  another  moment  the  bow  grounded  on 
the  bank  and  its  occupant  came  stumbling  up  the  slight 
declivity. 

He  was  a  medium-sized,  wiry-looking  fellow,  with 
olive  skin  and  small  mustache,  dressed  in  brown  cord- 
uroy, a  colored  handkerchief  wound  about  his  head  in 
lieu  of  a  hat.  As  he  came  to  the  level  where  I  stood, 
he  stopped  suddenly,  staring  into  my  face. 

127 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  Sacre !     I   thought   eet  vas   Coombs.     Who   are 
you,  M'sieur?  " 

"  I  came  in  last  night,"  I  replied  evasively,  "  and  was 
just  looking  about  a  bit." 

"So!  you  know  Coombs,  hey?" 

"  I  Ve  met  him  —  yes." 

The  black  eyes  searched  my  face,  and  I  noted  his 
right  hand  touch  the  hilt  of  a  knife  in  his  belt. 

"  What  water  is  this?  "  I  asked,  ignoring  his  action, 
"bayou?" 

"  Oui,  M'sieur." 

"  Are  we  near  the  sea  ?  " 

"  Twenty-seex    mile.     You    not   know    where    you 
are  ?     'Tis  odd  you  not  know,  M'sieur." 

I  laughed,  enjoying  his  bewilderment,  yet  not  real- 
izing how  to  turn  it  to  better  account. 

"  Oh,  no.     I  came  by  train  in  the  night,  and  am  a 
little  hazy  as  to  location.     You  live  about  here?  " 

"Som'time;  then  off  again  —  sailor." 

I  nodded  to  prove  I  understood,  but  the  man  stopped 
uneasily. 

"  Whare  Coombs?     You  know,  M'sieur?  " 

"  No,  I  don't,"  I  acknowledged.     "  Asleep  in  his 
cabin  likely." 

128 


I  GET  INTO  THE  GAME 

The  Creole,  for  such  he  undoubtedly  was,  made  a 
swift  resolve. 

"  'Tis  like,  M'sieur.  I  find  out,  maybe  you  come 
too!" 

The  last  was  more  of  an  order  than  a  question,  and 
the  fellow  stepped  back  slightly  in  a  manner  almost  a 
threat.  Understanding  the  significance  of  the  gesture 
I  gave  it  no  apparent  heed,  but  turned  in  the  direction 
of  the  cabins.  I  had  no  reason  to  avoid  Coombs; 
indeed,  I  desired  to  see  him,  and  I  had  no  intention  of 
permitting  this  lad  to  suppose  that  I  feared  his  veiled 
threats.  Without  so  much  as  glancing  back  at  him 
I  advanced  along  the  footpath,  my  hands  in  my 
pockets.  Yet  my  mind  leaped  from  point  to  point  in 
eager  speculation.  The  whole  thing  was  puzzling.  I 
had  come  expecting  a  mere  bit  of  play-acting,  with 
all  details  left  in  the  control  of  others.  I  anticipated 
no  more  than  a  few  weeks  of  idleness,  with,  perhaps, 
the  overseeing  of  a  plantation,  to  partially  keep  my 
time  occupied.  Instead  I  found  myself  instantly  in- 
volved in  a  network  of  mystery  where  even  murder 
was  part  of  the  play.  Little  as  I  liked  Coombs,  this 
Creole  was  even  more  dangerous.  The  one  was  a 
rough,  the  other  a  venomous  snake.  So  far  as  the 
9  129 


GORDON  CRAIG 

original  purpose  of  my  adventure  was  concerned  it 
had  already  largely  faded  from  recollection.  The 
swift  recurrence  of  more  startling  events  dominated. 
The  spirit  of  adventure,  with  which  I  was  liberally 
endowed,  was  fast  taking  possession  of  all  my  faculties. 
Whatever  mystery  surrounded  this  house,  whatever 
of  crime  lurked  in  the  neighborhood,  I  became  deter- 
mined to  solve.  For  the  moment  I  forgot  even  Mrs. 
Bernard,  and  my  own  assumed  character,  in  the  excite- 
ment of  this  new  chase. 

"  Ze  right;  turn  to  ze  right,  M'sieur,"  said  a  voice 
behind  me,  and  then  I  saw  Coombs  standing  before 
the  door  of  the  second  cabin.  Half  dressed  as  he 
was,  his  ever-present  "  gun  "  hung  low  at  his  hip,  and 
his  face  scowled  in  surprised  recognition. 

"What  does  this  mean,  Broussard?"  he  growled 
savagely.  "  Where  did  you  pick  up  that  fellow?  " 


130 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE    CONFESSION 

I  CAUGHT  the  wicked,  snaky  gleam  of  the  Creole's 
eyes.  All  his  early  suspicion  of  me  had  revived 
instantly. 

"  At  the  landing,"  he  hastened  to  explain.  "  How 
could  I  tell?  He  said  he  knew  you,  M'sieur." 

"  Oh,  he  did,  hey !  Well,  all  I  know  about  him  is 
that  he  blew  in  here  last  night  with  a  woman;  claimed 
to  be  young  Henley,  and  took  possession  of  the  place. 
I  reckon  it 's  about  time  I  saw  some  papers  to  prove 
what  yer  are,  young  feller,  'for  yer  go  snoopin'  round 
at  daylight.  What 's  yer  game  enyhow?  " 

The  man's  bluster  gave  me  my  clew.  The  thought 
suddenly  occurred  to  me  that,  for  some  reason,  he  was 
more  afraid  of  me  than  I  of  him.  And  if  I  met  him 
on  the  same  ground  he  was  of  the  disposition  to  give 
way  first. 

"  You  can  see  my  authority,  Coombs,  any  time  you 
are  ready  to  exhibit  your  own,"  I  returned  coolly,  lean- 


GORDON  CRAIG 

ing  back  against  the  side  of  the  cabin,  and  staring  him 
straight  in  the  eyes.  u  I  Ve  got  more  occasion  to 
question  you,  you  big  brute,  than  you  have  me.  Who 
is  going  to  prevent  my  walking  about  these  grounds? 
You?  Just  try  the  experiment,  and  see  how  it  comes 
out.  If  you  are  the  overseer  here,  then  it  is  my  money 
that  is  paying  your  wages,  and  from  the  look  of  things," 
and  I  swept  my  hand  toward  the  surrounding  weeds, 
"  you  '11  not  hold  the  job  long  at  that." 

Coombs  did  not  cringe,  but  my  tone  brought  him  un- 
easiness. 

"  The  niggers  won't  work,"  he  returned  gruffly. 
"  Thar  ain't  a  nigger  on  the  place." 

"  Apparently  white  men  enough  hanging  around. 
What 's  the  matter  with  the  negroes?  " 

"  Ghosts,"  and  the  fellow  laughed.  "  Maybe 
yer  Ve  seen  sum?  " 

I  straightened  up,  stung  by  the  sneer  in  his  voice. 

"  No;  but  I  Ve  seen  something  more  to  the  point  — 
a  murdered  man." 

"What?" 

"  Just  what  I  said.  There  was  a  man  killed  last 
night  in  that  back  room  upstairs.  Shot  in  the  head 
through  the  window.  I  heard  the  shot  and  investi- 
gated. His  body  lies  there  now." 

132 


THE  CONFESSION 

I  saw  Broussard's  snaky  eyes  flash  across  toward 
Coombs'  face,  but  the  latter  remained  motionless. 

"  It 's  a  damn  lie !  "  he  ejaculated  roughly.  "  There 
is  no  body  there." 

"  Easily  settled.  Come  with  me,  and  I  '11  show 
you." 

Rather  to  my  surprise  neither  objected  to  the  test, 
and  we  tramped  in  single  file  toward  the  house.  Some 
precaution  kept  me  at  the  rear,  and  I  followed  silently 
when  Coombs  entered  the  open  door  of  the  kitchen. 
Unknown  to  me  there  was  a  narrow  back  stairway, 
and  we  mounted  this  without  exchanging  a  word.  In 
the  upper  hall  Coombs  threw  open  the  rear  door, 
and,  stood  aside,  not  even  looking  within. 

I  glanced  past  him.  There  was  the  furniture  as  I 
remembered  it,  the  dirty  walls,  the  opened  window. 
But  the  overturned  chair  stood  against  the  wall,  the 
cards  were  stacked  on  the  table,  and  there  was  no 
body  lying  on  the  floor.  So  startled  was  I  by  this  dis- 
covery that  I  could  scarcely  credit  my  eyesight,  but 
was  brought  to  a  realization  of  the  truth  by  Coombs' 
harsh  laugh. 

'  Well,  where  's  yer  dead  man?  I  reckon  ye  don't 
see  none,  hey!  " 

"  No,"  I  insisted,  "  but  I  did  see  one  —  twice.  The 

133 


GORDON  CRAIG 

body  lay  there  where  the  stain  shows  on  the  floor.  It 
has  been  carried  away  within  half  an  hour." 

"  A  likely  story.  Who  could  do  the  job?  Nobody 
round  this  shebang  but  Sallie  an'  me.  I  sure  ain't  been 
in  yere,  an'  I  reckon  it  wan't  Sallie.  So  cut  it  out, 
young  feller.  After  breakfast  you  an'  I  '11  hav'  a  talk, 
an'  find  out  a  few  things.  Come  on,  Broussard,  an' 
let 's  talk  over  that  matter  o'  ours." 

The  two  went  down  the  stairs  together,  and  I  closed 
the  door  of  the  rear  room,  and  stepped  out  into  the 
hall.  Sallie  was  in  the  kitchen,  for  I  heard  her  voice 
questioning  the  men  as  they  passed  through.  Out  of 
the  window  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  them  both  disappear- 
ing through  the  weeds  toward  the  bayou.  As  to  my- 
self I  was  more  at  sea  than  ever.  The  sudden  disap- 
pearance of  the  body  had  left  me  bewildered,  yet  more 
strongly  convinced  than  before  that  this  was  no  ordi- 
nary affair.  Evidences  of  a  plan,  of  cooperation,  ren- 
dered the  situation  serious.  That  dead  body  had  not 
moved  itself;  human  hands  had  accomplished  the  deed 
during  the  brief  period  of  my  absence  outside.  Whose 
hands  could  have  done  it?  Not  those  of  Coombs, 
surely,  for  he  could  not  have  passed  me  and  attained 
the  house  while  I  was  in  the  garden  unseen.  Nor 
Sally,  for  she  possessed  no  strength  to  more  than  drag 

134 


THE  CONFESSION 

the  dead  man  to  some  near-by  covert.  With  the  pos- 
sibility of  this  in  mind  I  searched  the  vacant  rooms 
of  that  floor,  closets  and  all,  thoroughly,  but  to  no 
result.  There  was,  therefore,  but  one  conclusion 
possible  —  unknown  parties  were  involved.  We  were 

not  alone  in  the  house  in  spite  of  its  apparent  de- 
sertion. 

I  paused  in  doubt  before  Mrs.  Bernard's  door,  con- 
vinced this  was  the  truth.  Should  I  tell  her  frankly 
the  story  of  the  night,  my  vague  discoveries,  my  sus- 
picion? I  surely  had  no  right  to  deceive  the  woman, 
or  keep  her  with  me.  I  had  determined  myself  to 
face  it  out,  to  risk  life  if  need  be,  to  learn  the  truth. 
But  I  had  no  right  to  further  involve  her.  She  had 
accompanied  me  thus  far  innocently  enough,  accepting 
my  explanation,  driven  to  acquiescing  by  the  desperate 
situation  in  which  she  found  herself.  Already  she  re- 
gretted her  hasty  action.  To  involve  her  still  deeper 
would  be  heartless.  I  could  not  do  it,  at  least  not 
without  full  confession. 

I  rapped  at  the  door  twice  before  there  was  any 
movement  within.  Then  her  voice  asked  who  was 
there,  and  at  my  answer  she  came  out  fully  dressed, 
fronting  me  with  questioning  eyes. 

'  The  night  has  rested  you,"  I  said  smilingly,  my 

135 


GORDON  CRAIG 

heart   beating   in    swift    appreciation    of   her   beauty. 
"  Are  you  ready  for  breakfast?  " 

"  For  anything  to  escape  the  loneliness  of  that 
room,"  she  replied  seriously.  "  If  I  really  look  rested, 
it  is  not  from  sleep  for  I  have  passed  the  night  in 
terror."  She  held  out  her  hands  as  though  seeking  to 
assure  herself  of  my  real  presence.  "  Tell  me  what 
is  wrong  with  this  house  ?  What  occurred  last  night  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  altogether  sure  myself,"  I  said,  striving 
to  speak  quietly,  and  holding  her  hands  tight,  "  but  I 
will  tell  you  all  I  know,  after  you  have  explained. 
Were  you  disturbed?  " 

"  Yes,  but  I  hardly  comprehend  what  was  reality, 
and  what  dream.  I  slept  some,  I  am  sure,  lying 
dressed  upon  the  bed.  At  first  I  thought  that  was  im- 
possible, I  was  so  frightened,  and  I  had  so  much  to 
think  about,  but  found  myself  too  utterly  exhausted 
to  keep  awake.  Yet  my  slumber  was  fitful,  and  filled 
with  dreams.  But  I  am  sure  of  some  things  —  my 
door  was  tried  twice,  and  I  heard  someone  prowling 
about  the  hall — " 

"  That  might  have  been  me,"  I  interrupted,  "  as  I 
was  out  there  during  the  night,  but  I  certainly  never 
tried  your  door." 

"  You  had  a  light?" 

136 


THE  CONFESSION 

"Yes." 

"  I  saw  that  shining  over  the  transom;  it  was  much 
later  when  my  door  was  tried;  not  long  before  day- 
light I  think.  Whoever  it  was,  passed  out  the  front 
hall  window  onto  the  porch  roof.  My  light  was  burn- 
ing, although  turned  low,  and  no  doubt  he  saw  me  sit- 
ting up,  wide  awake  on  the  edge  of  the  bed,  for  he  had 
disappeared  by  the  time  I  gained  sufficient  courage  to 
approach  the  window  and  look  out." 

"  Climbed  down  the  trellis,  probably,"  I  said,  deeply 
interested.  "  It  appears  strong  enough  to  support  a 
man.  I  wish  you  had  got  sight  of  the  fellow." 

She  lifted  her  hands  to  her  head. 

"  But  I  was  so  frightened.  My  head  throbs  now 
with  pain.  I  cannot  explain,  but  —  but  I  had  begun  to 
hate  this  mission  of  ours  before  we  ever  reached  here, 
and  then  this  awful  house,  and  that  man  and  woman. 
I  almost  begged  you  not  to  leave  me  alone,  yet  I  con- 
quered that  weakness,  and  said  good  night,  and  locked 
my  door.  You  never  realized  how  I  felt." 

"  No,  not  entirely,  although  I  did  comprehend  you 
were  sorry  you  had  consented  to  come." 

"  Not  that  altogether,"  and  her  eyes  uplifting  met 
mine.  "  I  was  frightened  last  night  in  the  darkness. 
I  confess  I  completely  lost  my  nerve,  and  would  have 

137 


GORDON  CRAIG 

run  away  if  I  could.  Perhaps  I  even  said  things  which 
made  you  believe  I  regretted  my  action  in  coming  with 
you.  But  I  am  more  myself  now,  and  I  mean  to  re- 
main, and  discover  what  it  all  means.  Can  you  guess 
why?" 

"  No ;  I  would  naturally  suppose  the  night  would 
have  added  to  your  terror,  your  desire  to  get  away." 
"  Then  you  do  not  suspect  even  now  who  I  am?  " 
;<  Who  you  are?     Only  as  you  have  told  me." 
"  And  I  told  you  only  a  half  truth.     I  am  the  wife 
of  Philip  Henley."     Her  cheeks  flushed,  a  touch  of 
passion  in  her  voice  as  she  faced  me.     "  That  is  the 
truth.     Do  you  suppose  that  I  would  ever  have  come 
here  with  you  otherwise?     No  matter  how  desperate 
my  condition  was  that  would  have  been  impossible.     I 
should  have  despised  myself.     Even  as  it  was  I  have 
been   thoroughly   shamed  to   have   permitted  you  to 
think  of  me  as  you  must.     Now  I  tell  you  the  truth 
—  I  consented  to  come  because  I  am  Philip  Henley's 
wife." 

My  surprise  at  this  swift  avowal  kept  me  silent,  yet 
I  could  not  conceal  the  admiration  from  revealment  in 
my  eyes.  She  must  have  read  aright,  for  she  drew 
back  a  step,  grasping  the  knob  of  the  door. 

"I  —  I  wanted  to  tell  you  yesterday  —  all  the  way 

138 


coming  down  here.  I  felt  that  I  could  live  the  deceit 
no  longer.  I  do  not  blame  you,  Mr.  Craig,  for  you 
are  a  man,  and  you  had  every  reason  to  believe  that 
you  were  doing  nothing  really  wrong.  I  wanted  to 
learn  all  I  could  before  I  confessed  my  identity,  and  — 
and  I  wanted  to  discover  just  what  you  were  like." 

"  You  mean  whether  I  could  be  trusted?  " 
'  Yes ;  I  —  I  could  not  tell  at  first.     We  met  so 
strangely,  and  merely  because  I  liked  you  from  the 
beginning  was  not  enough.     You  understand?  " 

"Yes,  and  now?" 

She  looked  at  me  frankly. 

"  Now  I  am  simply  going  to  trust  you  fully.  I  must ; 
there  is  no  other  way.  I  thought  it  all  over  and  over 
again  last  night,  and  determined  to  confess  everything 
as  soon  as  we  met  this  morning.  I  am  Viola  Henley, 
Mr.  Craig,  and  I  need  you." 


139 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  DECISION 

I  HAD  had  time  to  think,  swiftly  to  be  sure,  yet 
clearly  enough.  Surprised  as  I  was  by  her  state- 
ment, yet  the  truth  as  thus  revealed  failed  to  startle  me 
seriously.  Vaguely  I  had  suspicioned  the  possibility 
before,  not  really  believing  it  could  be  so,  and  yet  struck 
by  the  similarity  in  circumstances  of  the  two  women. 
Consequently  the  shock  of  final  discovery  was  some- 
what deadened,  and  I  retained  the  pose  of  thought. 
Moreover,  to  know  her  identity  was  an  actual  relief. 
Before,  I  had  half  doubted  the  righteousness  of  my 
cause,  at  times  almost  felt  myself  a  criminal.  Now 
that  I  could  openly  associate  myself  with  Philip  Hen- 
ley's wife,  in  a  struggle  to  retain  for  her  what  was 
justly  her  own,  all  feeling  of  doubt  vanished,  and  I 
became  grimly  confident  of  the  final  result.  Perhaps 
the  relief  I  felt  found  expression  in  my  face,  for  the 
woman  exclaimed: 

"  I  believe  you  are  actually  glad;  that  it  pleases  you 
to  know  this." 

140 


THE  DECISION 

"  It  certainly  does,"  I  replied  swiftly,  "  for  now  I 
can  work  openly,  knowing  exactly  what  I  ought  to 
do.  I  have  felt  like  a  rat  skulking  in  a  hole.  I  be- 
lieved what  those  men  told  me;  they  convinced  me  with 
proofs  I  could  not  ignore,  but  they  must  have  lied. 
In  some  details,  at  least,  they  must  have  deceived. 
Now  would  it  be  possible  for  Philip  Henley  to  be  in  a 
penitentiary  convicted  of  crime?  " 

"  It  would  not  be,"  she  returned  firmly.  "  There 
was  no  time  after  I  left  him  for  an  arrest  and  convic- 
tion. That  alone  is  sufficient  to  convince  me  of  fraud 
and  conspiracy.  More  than  that,  Philip  Henley  was 
not  one  to  commit  a  crime  of  that  nature,  and  there 
was  no  reason  why  he  should.  His  remittances  were 
amply  sufficient.  Under  the  influence  of  liquor  he 
might  commit  assault,  or  even  murder,  but  never  for- 
gery." 

"Then  what  do  you  think  .has  occurred?" 

"  Either  one  of  two  things,"  she  said  soberly.  "  He 
is  dead,  or  helplessly  in  the  power  of  those  men  who 
sent  you  here.  There  is  no  other  conclusion  possible. 
They  had  possession  of  his  papers  —  even  his  private 
memoranda.  They  knew  more  of  conditions  here  than 
I  had  ever  been  told.  In  my  judgment,  he  is  dead. 
Otherwise  I  cannot  conceive  it  possible  they  would  dare 

141 


GORDON  CRAIG 

attempt  to  carry  out  such  a  conspiracy.  The  very 
boldness  of  their  plan  convinces  me  they  believed  no 
one  lived  to  expose  them.  They  knew  he  was  dead, 
and  believed,  if  I  still  lived,  that  I  knew  nothing  of 
this  inheritance.  The  telegram  announcing  the  Judge's 
death  I  never  saw.  It  must  have  arrived  while  Philip 
was  too  intoxicated  to  grasp  its  meaning." 

"  You  know  nothing  then  of  the  two  men,  Neale  and 
Vail?" 

"  No ;  there  is  a  Justus  C.  Vail,  a  lawyer  in  the  city. 
I  found  the  name  in  the  directory,  and  called  at  his 
office.  He  was  away  making  political  speeches;  had 
been  gone  two  weeks." 

"  Then  the  fellow  assumed  that  name,  thinking  I 
might  be  familiar  with  it,  and  thus  be  impressed  with 
the  legality  of  the  transaction.  As  to  Neale,  I  will 
go  to  the  courthouse  in  this  county,  and  find  out  about 
him.  Only  first  of  all  we  must  understand  and  trust 
each  other.  We  have  got  some  shrewd  villains  to 
fight,  men  capable  of  resorting  to  desperate  measures. 
You  have  told  me  the  whole  truth  about  yourself 
now?" 

"  Absolutely,  yes.  I  told  you  the  truth  before,  ex- 
cept only  my  real  name.  I  was  married  to  Philip 
Henley.  Wait,  here  is  my  marriage  certificate;  I  have 

142 


THE  DECISION 

always  kept  it  with  me,  for  I  have  been  afraid  of  him 
almost  from  the  first.  I  gave  you  the  name  Bernard 
unthinkingly,  as  that  was  the  name  he  insisted  upon 
living  under.  He  explained  his  father  required  this, 
or  else  would  stop  his  remittances.  I  had  to  humor 
him,  although  I  thought  it  most  strange.  Is  that  all 
you  wish  to  know?  " 

"  All  now,  yes.  I  must  have  time  to  think,  and 
plan  what  is  best  for  us  to  do.  I  can  already  see  my 
duty  sufficiently  clear,  but  not  how  to  go  at  it.  The 
fact  is,  Mrs.  Henley  — " 

"  Would  it  not  be  better  for  you  to  call  me  Viola?  " 
she  interrupted.  "  Someone  might  overhear,  and  we 
must  continue  to  carry  out  the  deception,  I  suppose." 

"  It  will  be  safer,  if  you  do  not  object." 

"I?  Oh,  no;  I  shall  not  care  in  the  least.  You 
were  saying?  " 

"  This,  Viola,"  and  her  eyes  suddenly  flashed  into 
mine,  "  the  conditions  I  have  already  discovered  here 
—  in  this  house  —  are  no  less  strange,  and  dangerous 
than  the  mission  which  brought  us  here.  Everything 
looks  bad.  You  ought  to  know  it,  and  you  are  strong 
enough  to  be  told.  I  do  not  know  who  tried  your 
door  last  night,  and  later  escaped  down  the  trellis.  If 
I  did  I  could  determine  what  action  to  take.  But  one 

143 


GORDON  CRAIG 

thing  I  do  know  —  there  was  murder  committed  in 
this  house." 

"  Murder!  "  her  face  went  white,  her  fingers  clasp- 
ing my  sleeve.  "  Who  was  killed?  Coombs?  That 
woman?  " 

"  Neither.  A  man  I  never  saw  before.  I  heard 
the  same  shot  which  frightened  you;  took  my  lamp 
and  investigated.  I  found  him  lying  dead  on  the  floor 
of  the  rear  room.  He  had  been  shot  in  the  back  of 
the  head  through  an  open  window." 

"  Merciful  God !  and  the  body  still  there." 

"  No,  but  its  disappearance  only  adds  to  the  mystery. 
I  dared  not  create  an  alarm  at  once,  as  we  were  in  a 
strange  house,  and  I  had  no  means  of  knowing  where 
to  find  either  Coombs  or  the  housekeeper.  Nor  did 
I  venture  to  leave  you  alone  unguarded.  As  soon  as 
daylight  came  I  went  in  there  again  to  convince  myself 
the  murder  was  not  a  dream.  The  man's  body  lay 
there  undisturbed.  I  turned  him  over,  and  examined 
the  wound.  Then  I  went  out  and  found  Coombs,  who 
sleeps  in  one  of  the  negro  cabins.  He  sneered  at  my 
discovery,  but  finally  accompanied  me  back  to  the  house. 
I  could  not  have  been  absent  to  exceed  thirty  minutes, 
and  yet,  when  we  opened  the  door  of  that  rear  room, 

144 


THE  DECISION 

the  body  had  disappeared  —  vanished  completely. 
Not  a  thing  remained  to  tell  of  any  tragedy." 

"  It  had  been  dragged  into  some  other  room;  hidden 
away  in  some  closet.  The  woman  did  it." 

"  That  was  my  thought  at  first.  As  soon  as  I  got 
free  from  Coombs  I  searched  this  floor,  every  inch  of 
it,  and  found  nothing,  not  even  so  much  as  a  stain  of 
blood.  The  dead  man  was  heavily  built,  and  Sallie 
could  never  have  lifted  him  alone.  There  were  others 
—  men  —  concerned  in  the  affair." 

"  And  you  saw  none?  " 

"  Only  a  Creole  who  came  down  the  bayou  by  boat 
just  as  I  reached  the  bank.  He  had  some  message 
for  Coombs  —  a  snaky-eyed  little  devil  —  but  he  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  removal  of  the  body,  for  he 
was  not  out  of  my  sight  after  he  landed." 

Bewildered  consternation  was  clearly  manifested  in 
the  girl's  white  face,  and  yet  there  was  a  firmness  to 
the  lips  that  promised  anything  but  surrender.  I  was 
sufficiently  a  fighting  man  to  comprehend  the  symptoms, 
and  my  own  heart  throbbed  in  quick  response  to  her 
anticipated  decision.  For  an  instant  she  seemed  to 
struggle  to  regain  her  breath. 

"  Oh,  how  terrible!  I  can  scarcely  realize  that  all 
10  H5 


GORDON  CRAIG 

you  have  told  me  can  be  fact.  It  sounds  incredible, 
monstrous.  Why,  it  is  as  if  we  lived  in  a  wild  land, 
and  another  century.  No  novelist  could  conceive  of 
such  a  horrible  condition.  There  were  pirates  along 
this  coast  once  —  I  have  read  of  them  —  but  now,  in 
our  age  of  the  world,  to  even  dream  of  such  a  state  of 
affairs  would  be  madness.  What  can  it  mean?  Have 
you  any  theory?  " 

"  Absolutely  none;  I  am  groping  in  the  dark,  without 
a  single  clew.  All  I  know  is  that  Coombs  is  a  big 
ruffian,  but  too  cowardly  to  commit  murder.  The 
Creole  might,  and  I  would  n't  trust  Sallie  with  a  knife 
on  a  dark  night,  but,  in  my  judgment,  there  are  others 
involved  about  whom  we  know  nothing." 

"  You  mean  there  is  a  band?  that  we  have  stumbled 
into  a  rendezvous  of  outlaws?  " 

"  I  suspicion  so.  This  plantation  has  been  practi- 
cally abandoned  for  years.  Even  when  the  Judge  was 
alive  he  lived  in  town,  and  could  get  no  negroes  to 
work  out  here  because  they  believed  the  place  was 
haunted.  A  bayou  comes  within  a  hundred  yards  of 
the  rear  of  the  house,  so  concealed  by  trees  and  weeds 
as  to  be  almost  invisible  until  you  stand  on  the  banks. 
We  are  only  a  little  over  twenty  miles  from  the  Gulf. 
Altogether  this  would  make  an  ideal  hiding  place  for 

146 


Mobile  or  New  Orleans  thieves.  I  don't  say  this  is 
the  solution,  but  it  may  be.  More  likely  they  will 
prove  to  be  a  local  gang,  smugglers,  or  moonshiners, 
with  a  touch  of  modern  piracy  on  the  side." 

"  What  do  you  mean  to  do?  " 

The  question  was  asked  quietly,  and  I  glanced  at  her, 
noting  the  color  had  returned  to  her  cheeks. 

"  I  ?  Why  remain  and  ferret  it  out,  I  suppose," 
and  I  laughed.  "  I  was  never  very  good  at  running 
away,  and  really  I  must  get  at  the  bottom  of  this  affair. 
Coombs  is  going  to  have  a  talk  with  me  later  —  in- 
tends to  make  sure  who  I  am,  no  doubt  —  and  I  may 
learn  something  from  him  during  the  interview.  Any- 
how, I  am  just  obstinate  enough  to  stay  it  out." 

"What  about  me?" 

1  You  better  return  to  town;  a  traveling  man  on  the 
train  said  there  was  a  good  hotel.  Probably  Coombs 
has  some  kind  of  a  rig  we  can  drive  down  in.  I  '11 
ask  him  after  breakfast." 

"  Is  it  because  you  do  not  wish  me  with  you?  " 

I  hesitated  slightly,  confused  by  such  direct  question- 
ing. 

"  I  shall  feel  more  free  alone,"  I  replied  at  last, 
"  for  I  shall  have  only  myself  to  guard.  I  am  used 
to  taking  care  of  myself.  Besides,  this  is  likely  to 

w 


GORDON  CRAIG 

prove  a  rather  unpleasant  situation  for  a  lady.  You 
must  remember  I  propose  to  fight  this  thing  out  now  in 
the  open.  I  am  going  to  be  Gordon  Craig,  and  not 
a  make-believe  Philip  Henley.  The  scene  has  changed, 
and  I  'm  glad  of  it.  I  feel  more  like  a  man  already." 

"  And  you  conclude  I  can  be  of  no  help,  no  assist- 
ance — " 

The  cracked  voice  of  Sallie  came  to  us  up  the  stairs, 
the  unexpected  sound  startling  both. 

"  I  reckon  you  all  better  com'  down  an'  eat." 

She  stood  in  the  light  of  the  front  door  watching  us, 
and  we  descended  the  flight  of  steps  without  exchang- 
ing a  word.  The  woman  turned  and  walked  in  ad- 
vance into  the  dining-room. 

"Where  is  Coombs?"  I  asked,  looking  about  curi- 
ously. 

"  He  done  eat  already,  but  I  reckon  he  '11  be 
'round  'gain  after  a  while.  You  all  just  help  yer- 
selves." 

We  endeavored  to  talk  as  we  sampled  the  meal, 
directing  our  conversation  into  safe  channels,  both  ob- 
sessed with  a  feeling  that  whatever  we  said  would  be 
overheard.  The  woman  vanished  into  the  dark  pas- 
sage leading  toward  the  kitchen,  but  no  sound  of  labor 
reached  us  from  that  direction,  which  made  me  sus- 

148 


THE  DECISION 

plcious  that  she  lingered  not  far  from  where  we  sat. 
I  caught  Mrs.  Henley's  eyes  occasionally  straying  in 
that  direction  uneasily.  Yet  she  managed  to  keep  up  a 
sprightly  conversation,  largely  relating  to  the  country 
we  had  traveled  over.  Neither  of  us  ate  heartily, 
merely  toying  with  the  rather  unpalatable  food,  and, 
as  soon  as  we  dared,  pushed  back  our  chairs.  It  was 
a  relief  to  get  out  of  the  room,  but  as  we  stood  a  mo- 
ment in  the  front  doorway,  breathing  in  the  fresh  air, 
I  noticed  a  giant  form  approaching  the  house  through 
the  weeds. 

"  Coombs  is  coming  already  for  his  interview,"  I 
said  hastily.  "  As  it  may  be  stormy  perhaps  you  had 
better  retreat  upstairs." 

She  glanced  in  the  direction  of  his  approach,  and 
drew  slightly  back  into  the  shadow  of  the  hall.  There 
was  a  flush  on  her  cheeks,  and  her  eyes  met  mine  almost 
defiantly. 

"  I  will  go,"  she  said  quickly,  "  but  I  shall  not  leave 
this  house  while  you  remain." 


149 


CHAPTER  XVI 

COMPELLING   SPEECH 

SHE  was  gone  before  I  could  speak,  before  I  could 
even  grasp  the  full  purport  of  her  decision.  I  fol- 
lowed the  flutter  of  her  skirt  up  the  stairs,  half  tempted 
to  rush  after,  yet  as  instantly  comprehended  the  use- 
lessness  of  any  attempt  at  influencing  her.  Even  the 
short  space  of  our  acquaintance  had  served  to  convince 
me  that  she  was  a  woman  of  resource,  of  character, 
and  determination.  If  she  felt  it  right  to  remain  no 
argument  would  be  effective,  or  have  the  slightest 
weight.  Perhaps  another  night  would  change  her 
mood,  but  now,  in  the  sunshine,  her  courage  would  hold 
steadfast.  Even  as  these  considerations  flashed  across 
my  mind,  I  heard  the  thud  of  Coombs'  feet  upon  the 
steps  of  the  veranda.  That  he  had  been  drinking  I 
realized  at  a  glance,  and  it  was  equally  evident  that  he 
planned  to  overawe  me  by  brutal  domineering.  In 
spite  of  every  effort  to  control  my  expression  I  could  not 
restrain  a  smile  at  the  manifest  bluster  of  his  approach. 
u  So  yer  Ve  got  through  eatin',  hey,"  he  began 

150 


COMPELLING  SPEECH 

coarsely.     "  Whar  's  the  female?     Thought  I  saw  her 
here." 

"You  did,"  I  returned  coldly,  "but  Mrs.  Henley 
has  returned  to  her  room." 

"  Mrs.  Henley,  huh !  Think  yer  kin  pull  thet  bluff 
over  me !  " 

"What  bluff?" 

"  Aw,  this  Henley  racket  you  sprung  last  night  — • 
'bout  yer  being  young  Phil  Henley  come  back." 

"Did  I  say  that?" 

'  Yer  shure  did,"  eyeing  me  in  some  surprise.  "  I 
reckon  my  ears  heard  all  right.  Why,  what  are  yer 
this  morning?  " 

"  If  I  ever  made  any  such  claim  as  that,  Coombs,  it 
was  merely  to  assure  our  admittance.  You  were  not 
overly-cordial,  you  know,  and  I  did  n't  propose  having 
the  lady  walk  back  to  town.  It 's  different  this  morn- 
ing, and  I  am  going  to  be  just  as  frank  with  you  as  you 
are  with  me.  Is  that  square?  " 

"  I  reckon,"  uneasily,  not  yet  able  to  gauge  my  pur- 
pose, and  feeling  his  bluff  a  failure.  "  I  ain't  got  nothin' 
ter  lie  about  so  fur  as  I  know.  Let 's  go  inside,  whar 
we  kin  have  it  out  quiet  like." 

I  followed  him  into  the  front  room,  and  he  kicked 
out  a  chair  so  as  to  bring  my  face  to  the  windows.  As 


GORDON  CRAIG 

I  sank  into  it  I  noticed  a  dusty  mirror  opposite  which 
gave  me  a  dim  reflection  of  the  entire  room.  Coombs 
shut  the  door  leading  to  the  back  of  the  house,  and  sat 
down  facing  me,  his  big  hands  on  his  knees.  His  effort 
to  look  pleasant  only  made  him  appear  uglier  than 
usual. 

"  Wai,  go  on !  "  he  said  gruffly. 

I  crossed  my  legs  comfortably,  and  leaned  back  in 
the  chair,  quite  conscious  of  thus  adding  to  his  irrita- 
tion. If  I  could  only  anger  the  fellow  sufficiently  he 
might  blurt  out  something  of  value.  Anyhow,  my  best 
card  was  cool  indifference. 

"  There  is  not  much  to  say,"  I  replied  deliberately. 
"  I  '11  answer  your  questions  so  far  as  I  think  best,  and 
then  I  '11  ask  a  few  of  you.  The  lady  upstairs  is 
Viola  Henley,  the  wife  of  Philip  Henley.  She  has  come 
down  here  to  take  legal  possession  of  this  property. 
That  is  the  situation  in  a  nutshell.  I  am  merely  ac- 
companying her  to  make  sure  that  she  gets  a  square 
deal." 

His  jaw  sagged,  and  his  eyes  wandered. 

"  Oh,  hell,"  he  managed  to  articulate.  "  What  is 
your  real  game?  " 

"  Exactly  as  I  have  stated  it,  Coombs.  To  the  best 
of  my  knowledge  Philip  Henley  is  dead  —  at  least  he 

152 


COMPELLING  SPEECH 

has  disappeared  —  and  his  widow  is  the  rightful  heir 
to  this  estate." 

"  Wai,  I  reckon  he  ain't  dead  —  not  by  a  jugful." 

I  felt  the  hot  blood  pump  in  my  veins.     Did  the 
man  know  this  to  be  true,  or  was  he  merely  making  the 
claim  for  effect? 

"  That,  of  course,  remains  to  be  proven,"  I  returned 
smilingly. 

"  Oh,  does  it,  now!  So  does  this  yer  wife  business, 
to  my  thinkin'.  Wai,  it  won't  take  long  ter  settle  the 
matter,  believe  me.  Who  are  you  enyhow?  " 

"  My  name  is  Craig  —  Gordon  Craig." 

"A  lawyer?" 

II  Not  guilty." 

"  A  damn  detective?  " 

"  Same  plea." 

I  thought  he  gave  a  grunt  of  relief;  anyhow  there 
was  more  assurance  in  his  manner,  a  fresh  assumption 
of  bullying  in  his  voice. 

"  All  right,  then ;  I  reckon  I  got  yer  number,  Craig. 
Yer  after  a  little  easy  money.  Somehow  yer  caught 
onto  the  mix-up  down  yere,  an'  framed  up  a  scheme  to 
cop  the  coin.  Might  hav'  worked  too  if  I  had  n't  been 
on  the  job,  an'  posted.  Damn  nice-lookin'  girl  yer 
picked  up  — " 

153 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  Drop  that,  Coombs !  "  I  interrupted  sharply,  lean- 
ing forward  and  staring  him  in  the  eyes.  "  Let  loose 
all  you  care  to  about  me,  but  cut  out  the  woman !  " 

"  Oh,  too  nice,  hey!  " 

'  Yes,  too  nice  for  you  to  befoul  even  with  your 
tongue.  If  you  mention  her  name  again  except  in 
terms  of  respect  there  is  going  to  be  trouble." 

He  laughed,  opening  and  closing  his  big  hands. 

"  I  mean  it,"  I  went  on  soberly.  "  Don't  think  I 
am  afraid  of  you,  you  big  slob.  No,  you  keep  your 
hands  where  they  are.  If  it  comes  to  a  draw  you  '11 
find  me  quick  enough  to  block  your  game.  Now  lis- 
ten." 

Had  I  been  less  in  earnest,  or  less  puzzled  as  to  the 
real  situation,  I  would  have  laughed  at  the  expression 
upon  the  man's  face.  With  hat  pulled  over  his  eyes, 
he  sat  stiff,  staring  at  me,  his  fingers  twitching  nerv- 
ously, unable  to  determine  just  the  species  confront- 
ing him.  I  made  no  display  of  a  weapon;  he  could 
not  be  sure  that  I  was  armed,  yet  my  right  hand  was 
hidden  in  the  side  pocket  of  my  coat.  I  could  read 
the  doubt,  the  indecision  in  his  mind,  as  plainly  as 
though  expressed  in  words.  The  brute  and  the  coward 
struggled  for  mastery. 

"  I  Ve  told  you  the  truth  about  who  we  are,  and 

154 


COMPELLING  SPEECH 

our  purpose  in  coming  here,"  I  went  on  slowly  and 
clearly,  "  because  I  have  decided  to  fight  in  the  open. 
Now  I  want  to  know  who  you  are?  What  authority 
you  have  on  the  Henley  plantation?  Speak  up!  " 

The  reply  came  reluctantly,  but  there  must  have 
been  a  sternness  in  my  face  which  compelled  an  answer. 

"  I  told  yer  —  I  'm  the  overseer." 

"  A  fine  specimen,  from  the  looks  of  the  place;  what 
was  you  ordered  to  grow  —  weeds?  " 

"  Thet  's  none  o'  your  business." 

"  It 's  the  business  of  the  lady  upstairs,  Coombs, 
and  I  am  representing  her  at  present.  It  will  be  just 
as  well  for  you  to  be  civil.  Who  appointed  you  to 
this  position  —  the  administrators?" 

"  I  reckon  not." 

"  Ever  hear  of  a  man  named  Neale,  P.  B.  Neale?  " 

"  No." 

"Or  Justus  C.  Vail?" 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  No  one  sent  you  any  word  then  that  we  were  com- 
ing? or  gave  you  any  orders  to  look  after  us?  " 

The  blank  expression  of  his  face  was  sufficient  an- 
swer. I  waited  a  moment,  thinking,  endeavoring  to 
determine  my  next  move.  This  knowledge  made  one 
thing  clear — -we  were  playing  a  lone  hand.  As  well 

155 


GORDON  CRAIG 

planned  as  was  the  scheme  of  those  two  conspirators 
they  had  reckoned  without  sufficient  knowledge  of  the 
existing  conditions  here.  But  was  this  true?  Would 
villains  as  shrewd  as  they  be  guilty  of  such  neglect? 
Besides,  they  had  assured  me  that  the  overseer  would 
be  notified  of  our  coming.  Suddenly  there  flashed 
back  to  my  memory  a  picture  of  that  murdered  man  in 
the  rear  room.  Could  he  be  the  connecting  link?  the 
overseer  sent  by  Neale?  If  this  horrible  suspicion  was 
correct  it  only  proved  the  desperate  character  of  those 
against  whom  I  contended.  And  if  true  only  the  harsh- 
est measure  would  compel  Coombs  to  acknowledge 
the  truth.  I  drew  in  my  breath,  every  nerve  braced 
for  action.  Then  I  jerked  the  revolver  from  my 
pocket,  and  held  it,  glimmering  ominously  in  the  light, 
across  my  knee. 

"  You  probably  have  some  reason  for  lying  to  me," 
I  said  coldly,  "  and  now  I  am  going  to  give  you  an 
equally  good  reason  for  telling  the  truth.  What  do 
you  know  about  the  administrators  of  this  estate?  " 

He  was  breathing  hard,  his  eyes  on  the  shining 
barrel. 

"  There  is  one  named  Neale,  is  n't  there?  " 

11 1  —  I  reckon  so." 

/ 

"  How  do  you  know?  " 

156 


COMPELLING  SPEECH 

"  Wai,"  feeling  it  useless  to  struggle  against  the 
argument  presented  by  the  blue  steel  barrel.  "  Hell, 
all  I  know  is  a  fellow  com'  'long  yere  a  while  back 
with  a  paper  signed  Neale,  thinkin'  ter  take  my  job." 

"  What  happened  to  him?  " 

"  Oh,  he  just  nat'ally  got  kicked  out  inter  the  road, 
an'  I  reckon  he  's  a  running  yet.  He  was  a  miserable 
Yankee  runt,  an'  I  did  n't  hurt  the  cuss  none  to  speak 
of.  What  yer  askin'  all  this  fer  enyhow,"  he  ques- 
tioned anxiously,  "  an'  a  drawin'  that  gun  on  me?  " 

44  It  seemed  to  be  the  only  available  method 
for  extracting  information.  Pardon  my  insistence, 
Coombs,  but  was  n't  that  dead  man  up  there  the  fellow 
Neale  sent?" 

"  Not  by  a  damn  sight,"  and  I  could  see  the  perspira- 
tion break  out  on  his  forehead.  "  Why,  there  wan't 
none  enyhow.  That  guy  skipped  out  North  agin." 

"All  right;  we'll  let  it  go  this  time.  Now  one 
more  question  and  I  am  done.  Under  whose  orders 
are  you  in  charge  here?  " 

He  was  so  long  in  answering,  his  eyes  glaring  ugly 
under  heavy  brows,  that  I  elevated  my  weapon,  half 
believing  he  meditated  an  attack. 

'  You  Ve  got  to  answer,  Coombs,"  I  said  sternly, 
"  or  take  the  consequences.     I  'm  in  dead  earnest." 

157 


GORDON  CRAIG 

Suddenly  I  became  aware  that  his  glance  was  not 
directly  upon  me,  and  I  lifted  my  own  eyes  to  the  sur- 
face of  the  tarnished  mirror  behind  where  he  sat.  It 
reflected  the  large  portrait  of  the  late  Judge  Henley 
hanging  on  the  opposite  wall,  and  —  by  all  the  gods! 
—  I  thought  I  saw  it  move,  settle  back  into  position ! 
I  was  upon  my  feet  instantly,  swinging  aside  into  a 
better  situation  for  defense.  Perhaps  that  seeming 
movement,  swift  and  elusive,  might  be  a  figment  of 
imagination,  a  mere  trembling  of  the  glass.  But  I 
was  taking  no  chances.  The  very  conception  of  some 
hidden  peril  threatening  me  from  behind  awoke  the 
savage  in  me  instantly.  Before  Coombs  could  realize 
what  had  occurred  I  had  the  gun  muzzle  at  the  side  of 
his  head. 

"  Now  answer,"  I  commanded  sharply.  "  Whose 
orders  put  you  here?" 

He  choked,  shrinking  back  helpless  in  the  chair. 

"  By  God  1  you  won't  always  have  the  drop  on 
me—" 

"  Well,  I  have  now.     Speak  up;  who  is  the  man?  " 

His  eyes  ranged  along  the  wall,  an  expression  in 
them  like  that  of  a  whipped  cur. 

"  Philip  Henley,"  he  whispered,  so  low  I  scarcely 
caught  the  name. 


COMPELLING  SPEECH 

"What!" 

"  Wai,  I  told  yer,"  he  growled  resentfully.  "  Yer 
kin  believe  er  not  just  as  you  please,  but,  so  help  me, 
that 's  the  truth.  I  reckon  I  know." 

As  I  stared  at  him,  half  believing,  half  incredulous, 
I  became  conscious  that  she  stood  in  the  hall  doorway. 
Coombs  lifted  his  head,  glad  of  any  respite,  and  I 
glanced  aside  also,  dropping  the  revolver  back  into 
my  coat  pocket 

"You  —  you  were  quarreling?"  she  asked,  coming 
into  the  room,  "  you  were  so  long  I  became  anxious, 
and  came  down." 

"  Nothing  serious,"  I  assured  her,  smilingly. 
"  Coombs  here  was  a  little  reluctant  to  impart  infor- 
mation, and  I  was  compelled  to  resort  to  primitive 
methods.  The  result  has  been  quite  satisfactory." 

"  Kin  I  go  now?  "  he  asked  uneasily. 

"  Yes,  by  way  of  the  front  door." 

I  watched  his  great  hulking  figure  until  he  disap- 
peared along  the  path  leading  around  the  house.  I 
had  no  fear  that  he  would  ever  face  me  openly;  all 
I  needed  to  guard  against  was  treachery.  Then  I 
turned  and  looked  into  the  questioning  eyes  of  the 
woman. 

"  What  did  you  learn?     What  did  he  say?  " 

159 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  Only  one  thing  of  real  importance,"  I  answered 
in  subdued  tone,  "  and  I  dragged  that  out  of  him 
by  threat.  He  was  not  employed  by  Neale,  and  the 
fellow  who  was  sent  down  here  to  assist  us  was  disposed 
of  in  some  way." 

"Killed,  you  mean?" 

"  I  suspect  as  much,  but  Coombs  claims  he  was 
kicked  off  the  place,  and  returned  North." 

For  a  moment  she  stood  silent,  breathing  heavily,  her 
eyes  on  my  face.  In  the  pause  I  saw  again  the  picture 
of  the  old  Judge,  and  remembered. 

"  Why  is  he  here  then?     What  authority  has  he?  " 

"  Come  outside  into  the  garden,  and  I  will  tell  you 
the  whole  story.  Somehow  I  feel  here  as  though  we 
were  being  watched  every  minute.  Never  mind  a  hat; 
we  will  find  shade  somewhere." 


1 60 


CHAPTER  XVII 

CIRCUMSTANTIAL   EVIDENCE 

IN  front  of  the  veranda,  and  to  the  right  of  the 
brick  walk,  the  latticework  of  a  small  summer- 
house  could  be  discerned  through  a  maze  of  shrubbery 
and  weeds.  No  path  led  toward  it,  yet  we  made  the 
difficult  passage,  by  pressing  aside  the  foliage,  and 
discovered  a  rustic  seat  within,  where  we  were  com- 
pletely screened  from  observation.  I  felt  the  slight 
trembling  of  the  woman's  form  from  suppressed  ex- 
citement, but  the  adventure  with  Coombs  had  only 
served  to  stiffen  my  nerves.  With  flushed  cheeks,  and 
eyes  bright  and  questioning,  she  could  scarcely  wait  for 
me  to  begin. 

u  Now  tell  me;  surely  we  are  out  of  sight  and  hear- 
ing." 

"  I  do  not  think  I  shall  ever  be  entirely  assured 
as  to  that  until  I  know  more  of  our  exact  situation," 
I  replied,  speaking  cautiously.  "  We  may  have  been 
seen  coming  here,  and  those  weeds  would  easily  con- 
ceal an  eavesdropper.  The  truth  is,  I  have  gained 
11  161 


GORDON  CRAIG 

very  little  information  of  value,  and  am  as  mystified 
as  ever.  If  that  fellow  told  the  truth  it  is  beyond  my 
understanding." 

"  But  you  are  sure  he  knows  nothing  of  those  men 
who  sent  you  here?  " 

"  Yes,  he  had  never  heard  of  Vail,  and  all  he  knew 
about  Neale  was  that  name  was  signed  to  the  orders  of 
the  new  overseer." 

"  Under  what  authority  is  the  man  acting?  " 

I  hesitated,  not  venturing  to  look  at  her,  conscious 
of  a  personal  feeling  which  I  must  conceal. 

"  Do  you  not  wish  to  tell  me?  " 

u  It  is  not  that,"  I  hastened  to  explain,  but  finding 
the  words  hard  to  speak.  "  I  think  he  lied,  and  yet 
cannot  be  sure.  He  claims  to  be  working  under  the  or- 
ders of  Philip  Henley." 

"What!     Impossible!" 

"  So  I  felt,  and  consequently  hesitated  to  tell  you, 
but  now  that  I  have  been  compelled  to  do  so,  I  will 
explain  in  full.  He  said  this  under  the  menace  of  a  re- 
volver, a  condition  which  often  inspires  men  to  speak 
the  truth.  I  can  scarcely  imagine  his  making  up  such 
a  story,  for  he  is  a  dull-witted  fellow,  and  even  before 
he  had  threatened  to  test  your  claims  to  be  Henley's 
wife." 

162 


CIRCUiMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 

"You  told  him,  then?" 

"  Everything,  except  the  original  cause  of  our  being 
here.  I  determined  this  morning  to  fight  in  the  open, 
under  my  own  name.  That  is  the  right  way,  is  it 
not?" 

"  Yes,  I  think  so,"  and  she  lifted  her  eyes  to  mine. 
"  I  like  you  better  for  that." 

"  I  think  I  like  myself  better  also,"  I  said  with  a 
laugh.  "  I  confess  I  did  n't  care  much  at  first.  The 
whole  affair  merely  represented  a  lark,  an  adventure 
with  me.  But  after  what  you  said  the  night  of  our 
arrival  I  began  to  view  the  thing  in  a  new  light,  and  to 
despise  my  part  in  it.  Yet  even  then  I  felt  bound  to 
carry  out  my  agreement.  It  was  only  when  you  told 
me  your  identity,  that  I  felt  free  to  decide  other- 


wise." 


"  Why  should  that  make  such  a  difference  ?  If  I  had 
not  been  the  one,  then  it  would  have  been  some  other 
woman  defrauded." 

"  True,  but  a  mere  unknown,  a  shadow.  Besides, 
I  had  no  reason  previously  to  know  that  a  fraud  was 
contemplated  —  those  rascals  told  a  most  plausible 
story,  leaving  me  to  believe  I  served  the  real  heirs. 
Now  I  comprehend  their  true  purpose  and  —  and,  well, 
knowing  you  it  has  become  personal." 

163 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  I  do  not  altogether  understand." 

"  Why,  it  is  simply  this,"  I  went  on  desperately, 
"  I  want  to  serve  you,  and  I  want  you  to  respect  me. 
Down  in  your  heart  you  have  n't  really  been  assured 
that  I  was  not  one  of  that  gang  of  conspirators.  You 
came  down  here  to  watch  me.  Now  I  am  going  to 
stand  up  as  Gordon  Craig,  and  fight  it  out  for  you." 

There  was  a  knot  of  blue  ribbon  at  her  throat,  and 
I  reached  out  and  unpinned  it  before  she  had  time  to 
protest. 

"  See,  there  are  your  colors,  and  I  do  battle  under 
them.  Whatever  the  final  results  you  are  never  going 
to  doubt  me  any  more  —  are  you  ?  " 

Her  eyes  were  veiled  by  long  lashes,  and  I  could  see 
the  heaving  of  her  breasts. 

"  No  —  no.  I  scarcely  think  I  ever  did  doubt  you, 
only  it  was  all  very  strange.  Nothing  seemed  real; 
it  was  more  like  a  stage-play  in  which  I  acted  a  part 
—  our  first  meeting,  our  being  thrown  together  on 
this  quest.  I  have  not  known  what  to  think,  even  of 
myself." 

"  We  are  both  getting  our  heads  above  the  mist 
now,"  I  interrupted  gently,  "  and  deep  as  the  mystery 
appears,  when  finally  solved  it  will  likely  prove  a  very 

164 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 

sordid,  commonplace  affair.  The  main  thing  is  for  us 
to  thoroughly  understand  and  trust  each  other." 

"  You  need  not  doubt  me." 

"  I  have  already  learned  that.  It  is  more  important 
that  you  fully  trust  me." 

"  I  do,"  and  both  her  hands  were  impulsively  ex- 
tended. "  I  have  from  the  very  first.  I  did  not  come 
here  to  watch,  but  because  I  believed  in  you.  Truly 
this  was  my  motive  rather  than  any  thought  of  the 
property.  Indeed  I  hardly  realized  at  the  start  that 
this  was  my  affair;  I  merely  had  a  feeling  that  you 
needed  me.  That  —  that  morning  on  the  bench,"  she 
paused,  her  voice  choking  in  her  throat,  her  eyes  misted, 
"why,  I  —  I  was  scarcely  rational;  my  mind  could 
not  even  grasp  clearly  what  you  endeavored  to  tell. 
I  was  so  far  from  being  myself  that  I  failed  to  recog- 
nize my  own  name.  Perhaps  that  was  not  strange 
as  I  always  lived  under  another.  So  it  was  not  that, 
not  any  selfish  motive,  which  impelled  me  to  accom- 
pany you.  I  came  because  —  because  I  knew  you 
needed  me.  I  had  an  intuition  that  you  were  going  into 
danger,  into  some  trap.  I  cannot  explain,  no  woman 
can,  how  such  knowledge  lays  hold  upon  her.  I  merely 
acted  instinctively.  It  was  not  until  that  afternoon 


GORDON  CRAIG 

that  I  realized  clearly  what  this  all  meant  to  me  per- 
sonally. I  seemed  to  wake  up  as  from  a  dream.  Then 
I  sat  down  in  the  rest  room  of  one  of  those  big  de- 
partment stores,  and  thought  it  all  out.  At  first  I  de- 
termined to  tell  you  everything,  but  I  did  —  did  not 
know  you  at  all.  I  trusted  you,  I  believed  in  you; 
you  had  impressed  me  as  being  a  real  man.  But  this 
was  merely  a  woman's  intuition.  There  were  circum- 
stances that  made  me  doubt,  that  compelled  caution. 
I  —  I  had  to  test  you,  Gordon  Craig." 

"  My  only  wonder  is  that  you  retained  any  confi- 
dence." 

"Oh,  but  I  did,"  she  insisted  warmly.  "That 
alone  brought  me  here.  I  thought  of  appealing  to  a 
lawyer,  to  the  police,  and  then  your  face  rose  up  be- 
fore me,  and  my  decision  was  made.  I  came  back  to 
you  that  night  because  —  because  I  believed  you  to  be 
a  gentleman." 

"  And  now?  henceforth?  " 

Her  eyes  never  wavered,  although  there  was  a  high 
color  in  her  cheeks  as  my  hands  clasped  her  own  more 
closely. 

"  I  am  convinced  I  chose  aright.  You  are  the  man 
I  thought  you  to  be.  I  am  glad  I  came." 

For  an  instant  the  hot  blood  coursed  through  my 

166 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 

veins;  I  seemed  to  see  only  the  beauty  of  her  flesh. 
Wild  words  leaped  to  my  lips,  only  to  be  choked 
back  unspoken,  although  I  scarcely  knew  what  strength 
combined  to  win  the  swift  struggle.  Impulse,  made 
with  sudden  revelation  of  love,  swept  me  perilously  near' 
to  outburst,  yet  reason  held  sufficiently  firm  to  restrain 
the  flood  of  passion.  I  knew  I  must  refrain;  I  read 
it  in  the  calm  depths  of  those  eyes  fronting  me  in 
frank  friendship.  A  word,  a  single,  mad,  ill-consid- 
ered word,  would  sever  the  bond  between  us  as  though 
cleft  by  a  sword.  With  any  other  I  might  have  dared 
all,  but  not  with  her.  Reckless  as  my  nature  had  grown 
in  the  hard  school  of  life,  I  shrank  from  this  test, 
dreading  to  see  her  face  change,  her  attitude  harden. 
And  it  would;  there  had  already  been  sufficient  re- 
vealment  of  her  character  to  make  me  aware  of  how 
firm  a  line  she  drew  between  right  and  wrong.  It  was 
not  in  her  nature  to  compromise.  She  trusted  me  — 
yes!  But  as  a  "gentleman."  Should  I  fail  in  that 
test  of  her  faith  I  could  never  again  hope  to  regain 
my  place  in  her  esteem.  I  have  wondered  since  how 
I  ever  won  that  swift,  deadly  battle;  how  I  ever 
crushed  back  the  wild  passion,  the  mad  impulse  to 
clasp  her  in  my  arms.  Yet,  under  God's  mercy  I  did, 
my  voice  emotionless,  my  face  white  from  restraint, 

167 


GORDON  CRAIG 

my  lips  dry  as  with  fever.  The  one  thing  I  was  sure 
about  just  then  was  that  we  must  break  away  from  this 
personal  conversation;  flesh  and  blood  could  stand  the 
strain  no  longer. 

"  Let 's  not  talk  of  ourselves  then,"  I  said,  releas- 
ing her  hands,  "  but  of  what  we  must  face  here.  We 
trust  each  other;  that  is  enough  for  the  present  surely. 
You  will  not  leave,  and  let  me  ferret  out  the  mystery 
alone,  so  we  must  work  together  in  its  solution.  I  have 
told  you  that  Coombs  claims  to  be  working  under  the 
orders  of  your  husband.  Is  that  possible?  " 

"  I  cannot  conceive  clearly  how  it  could  be,  and  yet 
he  might  have  received  notice  of  his  father's  death  in 
time  to  assume  control  of  the  estate  by  telegraph,  or 
even  by  letter." 

"  I  hardly  think  Coombs  has  been  here  so  short  a 
time." 

"  He  might  have  been  the  old  overseer,  however, 
and  retained." 

"  True ;  yet  how  could  Philip  Henley  know  that  he 
had  inherited  the  property?  " 

She  thought  a  moment  seriously,  a  little  crease  in  the 
center  of  her  forehead. 

"  Of  course,  I  can  only  guess,"  she  hazarded  at 
length,  "  but  it  would  seem  likely  he  was  notified  of 

168 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 

his  father's  death  by  one  of  the  administrators,  and 
doubtless  told  at  the  same  time  of  his  inheritance.  He 
was  the  only  son,  and  there  were  no  other  near  rela- 
tives. It  would  be  only  natural  for  him  to  retain 
the  old  servants  until  he  could  come  here  and  select 
others." 

"  There  is  only  one  fact  which  opposes  your  theory," 
I  acknowledged,  "  otherwise  I  would  accept  it  as  my 
own  also.  Coombs  plainly  threatened  to  confront  you 
with  Henley  to  test  your  claim  to  being  his  wife." 

She  pressed  her  hand  to  her  temple  in  perplexity. 

"  Even  that  would  not  be  impossible,"  she  admitted 
reluctantly,  "  for  he  must  have  known  of  the  Judge's 
death  even  before  —  before  I  left.  Only  I  do  not 
believe  it  probable,  as  he  was  in  no  condition  to  travel, 
and  had  very  little  money.  Besides,"  her  voice  strength- 
ening with  conviction,  "  those  men  who  sent  you  here 
—  Neale  and  Vail  —  would  never  have  ventured  such 
a  scheme,  had  they  been  uncertain  as  to  Philip  Hen- 
ley's helplessness.  I  believe  he  is  either  in  their  con- 
trol, or  else  dead." 

"  Then  Coombs  lied." 

"  Perhaps ;  although  still  another  supposition  is  pos- 
sible. Someone  else  may  claim  to  be  the  heir." 

This  was  a  new  theory,  and  one  not  so  unreasonable 

169 


GORDON  CRAIG 

as  it  appeared  at  first  thought.  Still  it  was  sufficiently 
improbable,  so  that  I  dismissed  it  without  much  con- 
sideration. She  apparently  read  this  in  my  face. 

"  It  is  all  groping  in  the  dark  until  we  learn  more," 
she  went  on  slowly.  "  Have  you  decided  what  you 
mean  to  do?  " 

"  Only  indefinitely.  I  want  to  make  a  careful  ex- 
ploration of  the  house  and  grounds  by  daylight.  This 
may  reveal  something  of  value.  Then  we  will  go 
into  Carrollton  before  dark.  I  cannot  consent  to  your 
remaining  here  another  night  after  what  has  occurred. 
Besides,  we  should  consult  a  lawyer  —  the  best  we  can 
find  —  and  then  proceed  under  his  advice.  Do  you 
agree?  " 

"  Certainly;  and  how  can  I  be  of  assistance?  " 

"  If  you  could  go  back  to  the  house,  and  keep  Sallie 
busy  in  the  kitchen  for  an  hour;  hold  her  there  at  some- 
thing so  as  to  give  me  free  range  of  the  house." 

''  With  Sallie !  "  she  lifted  her  hands  in  aversion. 
"  It  does  n't  seem  as  though  I  could  stand  that.  But," 
she  added,  rising  resolutely  to  her  feet,  "  I  will  if  you 
wish  it.  Of  course  I  ought  to  do  what  little  I  can. 
Why,  what  is  this?  a  seal  ring?  " 

She  stooped,  and  picked  the  article  up  from  the 
floor,  out  of  a  litter  of  dead  leaves,  and  held  it  to 

170 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE 

the  light  between  her  fingers.  As  she  gazed  her  cheeks 
whitened,  and  when  her  eyes  again  met  mine  they  evi- 
denced fear. 

"What  is  it?"  I  asked,  when  she  failed  to  speak. 
"  Do  you  recognize  it?  " 

She  held  it  out  toward  me,  her  hand  trembling. 

'That  —  that  was  Philip  Henley's  ring,"  she  said 
gravely.  "  Family  heirloom ;  he  always  wore  it." 


171 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

BEGINNING   EXPLORATION 

THIS  apparently  convincing  evidence  that  Henley 
was  not  only  alive,  but  had  preceded  us  to  Car- 
rollton,  left  us  staring  into  each  others'  faces,  more 
deeply  mystified  than  ever. 

"  He  must  be  here,"  she  articulated  faintly. 

"  At  least  it  would  seem  that  he  has  been.  The 
seal  is  a  peculiar  one,  not  likely  to  be  duplicated.  But 
I  doubt  if  he  is  here  now,  for  he  could  have  no  reason 
for  avoiding  us,  unless  — " 

"  I  know  what  you  mean,"  she  replied,  as  I  hesi- 
tated, "  unless  he  intended  to  repudiate  me,  to  refuse 
me  recognition." 

"  Is  he  that  kind  of  a  man?  " 

"  No ;  not  when  sober.  Under  the  influence  of 
liquor  he  becomes  a  brute,  capable  of  any  meanness." 

"  Perhaps  that  may  be  the  secret  then.  The  others 
here  may  be  keeping  him  intoxicated,  and  hidden  away 
for  purposes  of  their  own.  However,  this  need  not 
change  our  plans.  Will  you  go  in  to  Sallie?  " 

172 


BEGINNING  EXPLORATION 

"  Yes;  it  will  be  a  relief  to  be  busy,  to  feel  that  I  am 
accomplishing  something." 

I  stood  upon  the  bench,  from  where  I  could  look 
out  above  the  weeds  and  tangled  bushes,  and  followed 
her  course  to  the  house.  At  top  of  the  steps  she  paused 
an  instant  to  glance  back,  and  then  disappeared  within. 
I  waited  patiently,  knowing  that  if  she  failed  to  dis- 
cover the  housekeeper,  she  would  give  some  signal. 
Meanwhile  I  watched  the  weed-grown  area  about  me 
carefully  in  search  of  any  skulker  observing  our  move- 
ments. I  could  see  little  through  the  tangle,  yet  suc- 
ceeded in  convincing  myself  that  I  was  alone,  and  free 
to  begin  my  explorations.  Yet  I  faced  this  work  with 
less  enthusiasm  than  I  felt  when  first  proposing  it. 
The  knowledge  that  Philip  Henley  was  alive;  that  any 
discoveries  I  might  make  would  benefit  him  even  more 
than  his  wife,  had  robbed  me  of  my  earlier  interest  in 
the  outcome.  Nothing  I  had  heard  of  the  man  was 
favorable  to  his  character.  I  felt  profoundly  con- 
vinced that  whatever  affection  his  wife  might  have  once 
entertained  for  him  had  long  ago  vanished  through 
neglect  and  abuse.  My  sympathies  were  altogether 
with  her,  and  I  had  already  begun  to  dream  of  her  as 
free.  She  had  come  into  contact  with  my  life  in  such  a 
way  as  to  impress  me  greatly;  we  had  been  thrown  to- 


GORDON  CRAIG 

gether  in  strange  familiarity.  Little  by  little  I  had 
grown  to  appreciate  her  beauty,  not  only  of  face,  but 
also  of  womanly  character.  Already  she  swayed  and 
controlled  me  as  no  other  of  her  sex  ever  had.  I 
thrilled  to  the  touch  of  her  hand,  to  the  sweep  of 
her  dress,  and  the  glance  of  her  eye.  Not  until  now 
did  I  realize  fully  all  she  had  unconsciously  become 
to  me,  or  how  I  dreaded  the  reappearance  of  Hen- 
ley. Would  she  return  to  him?  Would  she  forgive 
the  past?  These  were  haunting  questions  from  which 
I  found  no  escape.  I  could  not  be  ignorant  of  the 
fact  that  she  liked  me,  trusted  me  as  a  friend.  But 
beyond  this  rather  colorless  certainty  I  possessed  no 
assurance.  I  thought  I  had  read  a  deeper  meaning  in 
her  eyes,  enough  to  yield  a  flash  of  hope,  but  nothing 
more  substantial.  And  now  —  now  even  this  must  be 
rubbed  out.  She  was  not  the  kind  to  ever  compromise 
with  duty,  nor  to  pretend.  No  love  for  me,  even  if 
it  had  already  begun  to  blossom  in  her  secret  heart, 
would  make  her  disloyal  to  sacred  vows.  I  knew  that, 
and  deep  down  in  my  own  consciousness,  honored  her 
the  more,  even  while  I  struggled  against  the  inevitable. 
Yesterday  I  might  have  spoken  the  words  of  passion 
on  my  lips,  but  now  they  were  sealed,  and  I  dare  not 
even  whisper  them  to  myself,  yet  it  was  out  of  this 

174 


BEGINNING  EXPLORATION 

very  depth  of  impossibility  that  I  came  to  know  love 
in  its  entirety,  and  realize  what  Viola  Henley  already 
was  to  me. 

But  I  was  never  so  much  a  dreamer,  as  a  man  of 
action,  and  the  necessity  of  active  service  forced  me 
to  cast  aside  such  thoughts  almost  instantly.  There 
was  work,  and  danger,  ahead,  and  I  welcomed  both 
eagerly.  This  was  the  way  to  forget.  Aye !  and  the 
way  to  serve.  I  felt  the  revolver  in  my  pocket,  took  it 
out  and  made  sure  it  was  in  readiness;  then  advanced 
cautiously  toward  the  house.  The  hall  was  empty,  and 
so  was  the  front  room.  The  latter  appeared  desolate 
and  grim  in  its  disorder  and  dirt.  My  thought  cen- 
tered on  that  picture  of  Judge  Henley  hanging  against 
the  further  wall.  Perhaps  it  had  not  moved;  the  sup- 
position that  it  did  might  have  been  an  illusion,  pro- 
duced by  some  flaw  in  the  mirror  opposite,  or  by  a 
freak  of  imagination.  Yet  I  could  never  be  satisfied 
until  I  learned  absolutely  what  was  concealed  behind 
that  heavy  gilded  frame.  There  was  mystery  to  this 
house,  and  perhaps  here  I  had  already  stumbled  upon 
the  secret.  I  opened  the  door  leading  to  the  rear, 
silently,  and  listened.  There  were  voices  talking  at 
a  distance,  two  women,  one  a  pleasant  contralto,  the 
other  cracked  and  high  pitched.  The  lady  was  doing 


GORDON  CRAIG 

her  part;  I  must  do  mine.  I  closed  the  door  gently, 
and  stole  over  toward  the  picture,  half  afraid  of  my 
task,  yet  nerving  myself  for  the  ordeal. 

A  black  haircloth  sofa,  with  broad  mahogany  arm, 
offered  two  easy  steps,  enabling  me  to  tip  the  heavy 
frame  sufficiently  so  as  to  peer  behind.  The  one  glance 
was  sufficient.  Underneath  was  an  opening  in  the  wall, 
much  less  in  width  than  the  picture,  yet  ample  for 
the  passage  of  a  crouched  body.  The  arm  of  the 
sofa  made  egress  comparatively  easy,  while  the  frame 
of  the  picture,  though  appearing  heavy  and  substantial, 
was  in  reality  of  light  wood,  and  presented  no  obstacle 
to  an  active  man.  The  passage  was  black,  and  I  thrust 
my  head  and  shoulders  in,  striving  to  discern  some- 
thing of  its  nature.  For  possibly  three  feet  I  could 
trace  the  floor,  but  beyond  that  point  it  seemed  to  dis- 
appear into  impenetrable  darkness.  This  line  of 
change  was  so  distinct  that  I  surmised  at  once  it  marked 
a  descent  to  a  lower  level,  either  by  ladder  or  stairs. 
Well,  this  would  benefit  me,  rather  than  otherwise,  for 
if  anyone  was  concealed  therein  it  would  be  down 
below,  where  the  light  streaming  into  the  upper  pas- 
sage, as  I  pressed  back  the  frame  to  gain  room  for  my 
body,  would  be  unnoticed.  There  was  no  hesitancy 
as  to  what  I  must  do.  Now  I  had  discovered  this 

176 


BEGINNING  EXPLORATION 

secret  passage  it  must  be  thoroughly  explored.  The 
safest  way  was  to  burrow  through  the  dark,  trusting 
to  hands  and  feet  for  safety,  and  prepared  for  any  en- 
counter. Whoever  might  be  hidden  away  there  would 
certainly  possess  some  light,  sufficient  for  any  warning 
I  needed.  Every  advantage  would  remain  with  me 
concealed  by  darkness. 

If  I  felt  any  premonition  of  fear  it  was  not  serious 
enough  to  delay  progress,  nor  did  I  pause  to  consider 
the  possible  danger.  Wherever  Coombs  had  gone, 
he  was  not  likely  to  remain  absent  for  long,  nor  could 
I  expect  Mrs.  Henley  to  remain  with  Sallie  a  moment 
longer  than  she  deemed  necessary.  This  was  my  op- 
portunity and  must  be  utilized  promptly.  Standing  on 
the  sofa  arm  I  found  little  difficulty  in  pressing  my 
body  forward  into  the  aperture,  until,  extending  at 
full  length,  the  picture  settled  noiselessly  back  into 
place  against  the  wall,  excluding  all  light.  After  lis- 
tening intently,  fearful  lest  the  slight  scraping  might 
have  been  overheard,  I  arose  to  a  crouching  position, 
able  to  feel  both  the  sides  and  top  of  the  tunnel  with 
my  fingers.  Inch  by  inch,  silently,  my  soft  breathing 
the  only  noticeable  sound,  I  worked  forward,  anxiously 
exploring  for  the  break  in  the  floor,  which  I  knew  to 

be  only  a  few  feet  distance.     Even  then  I  reached  it 
12 


GORDON  CRAIG 

unaware  of  its  proximity,  experiencing  a  sudden,  un- 
pleasant shock  as  my  extended  hand  groped  about 
touching  nothing  tangible. 

I  was  some  time  determining  the  exact  nature  of  what 
was  before  me.  There  were  no  stairs,  nor  did  any 
shafts  of  a  ladder  protrude  above  the  floor  level.  Only 
as  I  lay  flat,  and  felt  cautiously  across  from  wall  to 
wall,  could  I  determine  what  led  below.  All  was  black 
as  a  well,  as  noiseless  as  a  grave,  yet  there  was  a  ladder 
exactly  fitting  the  space,  spiked  solidly  into  the  floor- 
ing. My  groping  fingers  could  reach  two  of  the  rungs, 
and  they  felt  sound  and  strong.  With  face  outward  I 
trusted  myself  to  their  support,  and  began  the  descent 
slowly,  pausing  between  each  step  to  listen,  and  grip- 
ping the  side-bars  tightly.  The  blackness  and  silence, 
combined  with  what  I  anticipated  discovering  some- 
where in  those  depths  below,  set  my  nerves  tingling,  yet 
I  felt  cool,  and  determined  to  press  on.  Indeed,  deep 
in  my  heart  I  welcomed  the  adventure,  even  hoped  it 
might  end  in  some  encounter  serious  enough  to  arouse 
me  to  new  thoughts  —  especially  did  I  yearn  to  learn 
something  definite  about  Philip  Henley.  This  to  me 
was  now  the  one  matter  of  importance;  to  be  assured 
that  he  was  living  or  dead.  Nothing  else  greatly  mat- 
tered, for  nothing  could  again  efface  from  my  memory 

178 


BEGINNING  EXPLORATION 

the  woman  he  had  called  wife.  Right  or  wrong,  I 
knew  she  held  me  captive;  even  there,  groping  blindly 
in  that  darkness,  every  nerve  strained  to  its  utmost,  my 
thought  was  with  her,  and  her  face  arose  before  my 
imagination.  Unexpectedly,  unexplainably  love  had 
come  into  my  life  —  the  very  love  I  had  laughed  at  in 
others  had  made  me  captive.  And  I  was  glad  of  it, 
reckless  still  as  to  what  it  might  portend. 

I  counted  twelve  rungs  going  down,  and  then  felt 
stone  flags  beneath  my  feet,  although  the  walls  on 
either  side,  as  I  explored  them  with  my  hands,  were 
still  of  closely  matched  wood.  The  passage,  now  high 
enough  to  permit  of  my  standing  erect,  led  toward  the 
rear  of  the  house,  presenting  no  obstacle  other  than 
darkness,  until  I  came  up  suddenly  against  a  heavy 
wooden  door  completely  barring  further  progress.  As 
near  as  I  could  figure  I  must  be  already  directly  be- 
neath the  kitchen,  and  close  in  against  the  south  wall. 
No  sound  reached  me,  however,  from  above,  nor  could 
I,  with  ear  against  the  slight  crack,  distinguish  any 
movement  beyond  the  barrier.  Cautious  fingering  re- 
vealed closely  matched  hard  wood,  studded  thickly  with 
nail  heads,  but  no  keyhole  or  latch.  Secure  in  the  feel- 
ing that  no  one  else  could  be  in  this  outer  passage,  and 
completely  baffled,  I  ventured  to  strike  a  match.  The 

179 


GORDON  CRAIG 

tiny  yellow  flame,  ere  it  quickly  flickered  out  in  some 
mysterious  draft,  revealed  an  iron  band  to  the  left  of 
the  door,  with  slight  protuberance,  resembling  the  but- 
ton of  an  electric-bell.  This  was  the  only  semblance 
to  a  lock,  and  I  was  in  doubt  whether  it  would  prove 
an  alarm,  or  some  ingenuous  spring.  There  was  noth- 
ing for  it,  however,  but  to  try  the  experiment,  and  face 
the  result. 

Almost  convinced  that  the  pressure  of  my  finger 
would  ring  an  electric  bell,  I  drew  my  revolver,  and 
crouched  low,  prepared  for  any  emergency,  as  I 
pressed  the  metal  button.  To  my  surprise  and  relief 
the  only  thing  to  occur  was  the  slow  opening  of  the 
door  inward,  a  dim  gleam  of  light  becoming  visible 
through  the  widening  crack.  The  movement  was  de- 
liberate and  noiseless,  but  I  dropped  upon  hands 
and  knees  in  the  deepest  remaining  shadow  and  peered 
anxiously  into  the  dimly  revealed  interior.  It  was  a 
basement  room,  half  the  width  of  the  kitchen  over- 
head, I  should  judge;  the  walls  of  crude  masonry,  the 
floor  of  brick,  the  ceiling,  festooned  by  cobwebs,  of 
rough-hewn  beams.  The  light,  flickering  and  dim, 
came  from  a  half-burned  candle  in  an  iron  holder 
screwed  against  the  wall,  revealing  a  small  table,  two 
chairs,  one  without  a  back,  and  four  narrow  sleeping 

180 


BEGINNING  EXPLORATION 

berths  made  of  rough  boards.  This  was  all,  except 
a  coat  dangling  from  a  beam,  and  a  small  hand-hatchet 
lying  on  the  floor.  There  was,  in  the  instant  I  had  to 
view  these  things,  no  semblance  of  movement,  or  sug- 
gestion of  human  presence.  Assured  of  this,  although 
holding  myself  alert  and  ready,  I  slipped  through  the 
opening.  Even  as  I  stood  there,  uncertain,  and  staring 
about,  a  sharp  draught  of  air  extinguished  the  candle, 
and  I  heard  the  snap  of  the  lock  as  the  door  behind 
blew  back  into  position.  About  me  was  the  black 
silence  of  a  grave. 


181 


CHAPTER  XIX 

A    CHAMBER   OF    HORROR 

I  BACKED  against  the  wall,  crouching  low,  revol- 
ver in  hand,  scarcely  venturing  to  breathe,  listen- 
ing intently  for  the  slightest  sound  to  break  the  intense 
silence.  My  heart  beat  like  a  trip-hammer,  and  there 
were  beads  of  cold  perspiration  on  my  face.  The 
change  had  occurred  so  swiftly  as  to  leave  me  quaking 
like  a  coward  at  the  unknown  terrors  of  the  dark.  Yet 
almost  within  the  instant  I  gripped  my  nerves,  com- 
prehending all  that  had  occurred,  and  confident  of  my 
own  safety.  There  must  be  another  opening  into  this 
underground  den  —  one  leading  to  the  outer  air  — 
judging  from  that  sudden  and  powerful  suction.  The 
very  atmosphere  I  breathed  had  a  freshness  to  it,  in- 
conceivable in  such  a  place  otherwise.  With  the  first 
return  of  intelligence  my  mind  gripped  certain  facts, 
and  began  to  reason  out  the  situation.  That  sudden 
sweep  of  air  could  only  have  originated  in  the  opening 
of  some  other  barrier  —  a  door  no  doubt  leading  di- 
rectly to  the  outside.  I  had  seen  no  occupant  of  the 

182 


A  CHAMBER  OF  HORROR 

room;  without  question  it  was  deserted  at  my  entrance. 
Yet  someone  had  been  there,  and  not  long  before,  as 
was  evidenced  by  the  burning  candle.  Nor,  by  that 
same  token,  did  this  same  mysterious  party  expect  to 
be  absent  for  any  length  of  time.  Apparently  I  had 
intruded  at  the  very  moment  of  his  departure.  Wher- 
ever that  second  passage  might  be,  the  former  occu- 
pant of  this  underground  den  had  evidently  entered 
it  previous  to  my  opening  the  inner  door.  Still  un- 
aware of  my  presence  he  had  unfastened  some  other 
barrier,  and  the  resultant  draught  had  extinguished  the 
candle,  and  blown  shut  the  door  at  my  back.  This 
seemed  so  clearly  the  truth  that  I  laughed  grimly  be- 
hind clinched  teeth.  The  solution  was  easy;  I  had 
but  to  discover  the  extinguished  candle,  relight  it,  search 
out  the  second  passage,  and  waylay  the  fellow  when 
he  returned  unsuspicious  of  danger. 

Confident  as  to  the  correctness  of  my  theory,  and 
eager  for  action  to  relieve  the  tension  on  my  nerves 
in  that  black  silence,  I  began  feeling  a  way  along  the 
wall  toward  the  right,  in  the  direction  where  I  remem- 
bered the  iron  light  bracket  to  be  situated.  The  rough 
stone  surface  was  unbroken,  and  I  encountered  no  ob- 
stacles under  foot,  my  groping  search  being  finally  re- 
warded by  touch  of  the  iron  brace.  I  could  clearly 

183 


GORDON  CRAIG 

trace  the  form  of  the  bracket,  and  determine  how  it 
was  fastened  into  place,  yet  to  my  astonishment  there 
was  no  remnant  of  candle  remaining  in  the  empty 
socket.  Grease,  still  warm  to  the  touch,  proved  con- 
clusively that  I  had  attained  the  right  spot  in  my 
search,  yet  the  candle  itself  had  disappeared.  Beyond 
doubt  the  draught  of  air  had  been  sufficiently  strong  to 
dislodge  it  from  the  shallow  socket,  and  it  had  fallen 
to  the  floor.  I  felt  about  on  hands  and  knees,  but  with- 
out result,  and  finally,  in  sheer  desperation,  struck  my 
last  match.  The  tiny  flare  was  sufficient  to  reveal  the 
entire  floor  space  as  well  as  the  wall,  but  there  was  no 
remnant  of  candle  visible.  I  held  the  sliver  of  wood, 
until  the  flame  scorched  my  fingers,  staring  about  in  be- 
wilderment. Then  the  intense  darkness  shut  me  in. 

I  crouched  back  to  the  wall,  revolver  in  hand,  and 
it  seemed  as  though  the  blood  in  my  veins  had  turned 
to  ice.  What  legerdemain  was  this!  The  candle  was 
there,  and  not  half  burned,  when  I  entered.  I  saw  it 
with  my  own  eyes.  How  then  —  in  the  name  of  God 
—  could  it  have  vanished  so  completely?  There  was 
no  germ  of  superstition  in  my  nature,  and,  had  there 
originally  been,  it  could  never  have  out  lived  the  prac- 
tical experiences  of  the  past  few  years.  There  was 
but  one  way  to  account  for  this  occurrence  —  some 

184 


A  CHAMBER  OF  HORROR 

human,  aware  of  my  presence,  had  removed  the  candle, 
had  stolen  through  the  pitch  darkness  silently,  and  as 
swiftly  disappeared.  I  was  locked  in,  trapped,  and  not 
alone ! 

I  confess  for  an  instant  I  was  panic-stricken,  shrink- 
ing back  from  the  horror  of  the  black  unknown  which 
enveloped  me.  I  could  see  and  hear  nothing,  yet  I 
seemed  to  feel  a  ghastly  presence  skulking  behind  that 
impenetrable  veil.  My  first  inclination  was  to  creep 
back  to  the  door,  and  escape  into  the  outer  passage. 
Yet  pride  restrained  me,  pride  quickly  supplemented 
by  a  return  of  courage.  It  was  a  man  surely,  a  thing 
of  flesh  and  blood,  I  was  called  upon  to  meet.  He  was 
no  better  armed  than  myself,  and  he  possessed  no  ad- 
vantage in  that  darkness,  except  his  knowledge  of  sur- 
roundings. I  straightened  up,  and  advanced  slowly, 
testing  the  wall  with  my  hand,  every  muscle  stiffened 
for  action,  listening  for  the  slightest  sound.  I  en- 
countered nothing,  heard  nothing,  until  my  groping  fin- 
gers touched  the  rough  plank  of  a  sleeping  berth.  I 
explored  this  cautiously,  lifting  the  edge  of  a  coarse 
blanket,  and  reaching  up  to  make  sure  the  one  above 
was  also  unoccupied.  Satisfied  that  both  were  empty 
I  worked  my  way  blindly  along  to  the  second  tier.  As 
I  reached  into  the  lower  of  the  two  bunks  my  finger 

185 


GORDON  CRAIG 

came  In  contact  with  some  substance  that  left  the  im- 
pression of  a  human  body  beneath  the  blanket.  I 
jerked  away,  startled,  expecting  my  light  touch  would 
arouse  the  occupant.  There  was  no  movement,  how- 
ever, nor  could  I  distinguish  any  sound  of  breathing. 

Convinced  I  had  been  mistaken,  I  reached  in  once 
more  to  assure  myself  of  the  truth,  and  my  hand 
touched  cold,  clammy  flesh.  The  shock  of  discovery 
sent  me  reeling  backward  so  suddenly  that  I  slipped 
and  fell.  It  was  a  man  —  a  dead  man !  In  imagina- 
tion I  could  see  the  wide-open,  sightless  eyes,  staring 
toward  me  through  the  dark.  Trembling  with  the  un- 
reasonable terror  of  unstrung  nerves,  I  yet  managed  to 
regain  my  feet.  It  was  not  the  dead  body,  so  much 
as  the  black  gloom,  which  robbed  me  of  manhood.  I 
could  not  see  where  to  go,  how  to  escape.  At  what- 
ever cost  I  must  procure  light.  The  very  desperation 
yielded  me  reckless  courage.  Shaking  as  with  palsy, 
yet  with  teeth  clinched,  I  reached  forward,  groping 
my  way  back  to  the  side  of  the  bunk.  I  touched  the 
edge  of  the  blanket,  and  thrust  it  away,  feeling  the 
body.  The  man  was  fully  dressed,  lying  upon  his 
back,  and  I  experienced  no  difficulty  in  attaining  the 
pockets  of  his  coat.  In  the  third  I  found  what  I 
sought  —  a  box  of  matches. 

186 


A  CHAMBER  OF  HORROR 

Never  before,  or  since,  have  I  experienced  such  re- 
lief, as  when  my  fingers  closed  over  this  precious  find. 
I  struck  one,  and  as  the  phosphorus  head  burst  into 
flame,  stared  about  the  vacant  room,  and  then  down 
into  the  dead  face  within  the  bunk.  The  man  had 
been  killed  by  the  stroke  of  a  hatchet,  and  was  almost 
unrecognizable.  Not  until  the  blazing  match  had 
burned  to  my  finger  tips  was  I  sure  of  his  identity  — 
then,  to  my  added  horror,  I  recognized  Coombs.  I 
struck  a  second  match,  assuring  myself  beyond  doubt, 
and  drew  the  blanket  up  over  the  disfigured  face.  As 
the  brief  light  flickered  and  died,  I  grasped  the  full 
significance  of  the  man's  death,  the  probable  reason  for 
his  being  stricken  down.  Whoever  had  been  hidden 
behind  that  picture,  crouching  in  the  passage,  had  over- 
heard his  confession  to  me.  This  was  vengeance 
wreaked  upon  a  traitor,  the  executed  death  sentence  of 
desperate  men.  And  it  had  just  been  carried  out  — 
within  the  hour!  The  murderers  might  be  even  now 
lurking  within  the  shadows  watching  my  every  motion. 

Again  a  slender  match  flared  into  tiny  flame,  casting 
about  a  dim  radius  of  light,  partially  reassuring  me 
that  I  was  alone.  Before  it  flickered  out  into  darkness 
my  eyes  made  two  discoveries  —  the  opening  of  a  dark 
passage  to  the  left  of  the  bunks,  and  a  ghastly  hand 


GORDON  CRAIG 

protruding  from  the  upper  berth.  I  was  scarcely  sure 
this  last  was  not  a  vision  of  my  half-mad  brain,  but  a 
fourth  match  revealed  it  all  —  above  the  murdered 
Coombs,  hidden  beneath  blankets,  was  the  body  of  the 
strange  man  shot  in  the  upper  room.  My  God!  the 
place  was  a  charnel  house!  a  spot  accursed!  I  crept 
back  from  that  ghastly  scene  of  death  as  though  in- 
visible hands  gripped  my  throat.  I  fairly  choked  with 
the  unutterable  horror  which  overcame  me.  And  yet  I 
knew  I  must  act,  must  go  on  to  the  end.  Even  as  I 
crouched  there,  trembling  and  unmanned,  seeing  visions 
in  the  darkness,  hearing  imaginary  sounds,  my  thought 
leaped  back  to  the  girl  upstairs.  It  was  the  one  re- 
membrance which  kept  me  sane.  It  was  not  the  dead, 
but  the  living,  I  had  to  fear,  and  it  was  not  in  my  nature 
to  shrink  back  from  any  man.  I  could  feel  the  courage 
returning,  the  leap  of  hot  blood  through  my  veins  as 
I  straightened  up. 

I  risked  one  more  match  to  make  certain  of  the  open- 
ing through  the  wall,  dimly  glimpsed  beyond  the  berths. 
My  eyes  were  not  deceived;  here  was  a  second  wood- 
supported  passage,  unblocked  so  far  as  I  could  perceive, 
but  black  as  pitch.  I  held  the  flaming  splinter  aloft, 
anxiously  scanning  the  few  feet  thus  revealed,  but  as 
it  sputtered  out,  the  red  ash  dropping  to  the  floor,  I 

188 


A  CHAMBER  OF  HORROR 

felt  renewed  confidence  that  I  was  alone,  unobserved. 
Whoever  those  assassins  might  be,  they  had  departed, 
leaving  only  the  helpless  dead  behind.  No  doubt  they 
would  come  again  to  remove  the  bodies,  to  seek  refuge 
in  this  hidden  hole.  But  for  the  moment  I  was  there 
undiscovered,  and  must  utilize  each  precious  instant 
for  discoveries  and  escape.  Wild  recklessness,  a  de- 
sire to  break  away  from  those  grewsome  surroundings, 
overcame  all  caution.  Swiftly  as  I  dared  in  the  dense 
blackness  I  crept  forward,  feeling  the  smooth  wall  with 
eager  fingers,  my  right  hand  still  nervously  gripping  the 
revolver  butt.  Then  I  came  to  the  door,  similar  to  the 
other,  although  no  groping  about  would  reveal  the 
catch,  or  enable  me  to  force  it  open. 

Again  I  struck  a  match,  guarding  the  infant  flame 
with  both  hands  against  a  slight  draught  which  threat- 
ened its  extinction.  There  was  no  sound,  no  warning 
of  imminent  danger.  All  my  coolness  had  returned, 
and  my  every  thought  centered  on  quickly  discovering 
the  lock  of  the  door.  Yet,  even  in  that  instant,  I 
caught  glimpse  of  a  shadow  on  the  wall,  and  made 
one  swift,  automatic  effort  to  leap  aside,  dropping  the 
fatal  match.  The  movement  was  too  late!  Some- 
thing descended  crashing  upon  my  head,  and  I  pitched 
forward  into  unconsciousness. 

189 


CHAPTER  XX 

TAKEN  PRISONER 

IT  must  be  I  lay  there  practically  dead  for  some  time. 
I  had  no  knowledge  of  being  approached,  or 
handled,  and  yet  every  pocket  was  rifled,  the  revolver 
jerked  from  my  hand,  and  my  coat  ripped  from  my 
body.  Like  so  much  carrion  the  fellows  had  flung  me 
back  against  the  wall,  so  as  to  make  room  for  the 
swinging  open  of  the  door.  I  lay  there  huddled  up 
in  shapeless  disfigurement,  blood  staining  the  stones, 
one  arm  twisted  above  my  head.  Consciousness  re- 
turned so  slowly,  the  benumbed  brain  began  to  flicker 
into  activity  before  a  stiffened  muscle  relaxed.  I  was 
awake,  able  to  perceive  dimly,  and  to  realize  my  situa- 
tion, before  my  body  responded  to  action.  Returning 
life  seemed  to  sweep  downward  as  the  mind  grasped 
the  realities,  bringing  consciousness  of  pain,  throbbing 
head  and  aching  muscles.  Little  by  little,  silently, 
comprehending  now  what  had  occurred,  and  warned  by 
the  sound  of  voices  not  far  away,  I  changed  posture 
slightly,  straightening  out  cramped  limbs,  and  so  turn- 

190 


TAKEN  PRISONER 

ing  my  head  as  to  enable  me  to  see  along  the  passage 
where  a  ray  of  light  streamed.  There  was  a  mist 
before  my  eyes,  but  this  lessened,  and  I  began  to  view 
intelligently  the  scene. 

I  lay  twenty  feet  from  the  entrance  to  this  habitation 
underground,  thrust  into  the  black  shadow  behind  the 
door  which  stood  partially  ajar.  My  position  pre- 
cluded any  possibility  of  learning  what  was  beyond 
that  wooden  barrier,  but  I  could  plainly  view  the  entire 
north  portion  of  the  interior,  although  the  only  light 
radiated  from  a  flickering  candle.  One  edge  of  the 
table  came  within  my  vision,  a  man  sitting  beside  it,  his 
back  turned  toward  me.  I  made  out  little  of  this  fel- 
low's characteristics,  as  I  saw  only  a  pair  of  broad 
shoulders,  encased  in  a  rough  shooting  coat,  and  a 
fringe  of  black  whiskers.  He  was  smoking  a  short- 
stemmed  pipe,  and  contented  himself  with  a  growling, 
indistinct  utterance  when  addressed.  Opposite,  how- 
ever, was  a  man  of  a  different  type,  slender  and  active, 
his  hair  very  dark  and  inclined  to  curl,  a  rather  long 
face,  slightly  olive-hued,  with  a  small  mustache  waxed 
at  the  ends.  His  black,  sparkling  eyes  attracted  me 
first,  and  then  his  long,  shapely  hands.  These  grasped 
a  sheet  of  paper,  and  I  noticed  others,  including  sev- 
eral unopened  envelopes,  lying  before  him  on  the  table. 

191 


GORDON  CRAIG 

He  laughed  a  bit  unpleasantly,  a  row  of  white  teeth 
visible  beneath  the  dark  mustache. 

"  It 's  just  as  I  thought,  Herman,"  he  said  genially. 
"  The  fellow  is  a  mere  adventurer.  There  will  be  no 
one  to  take  his  disappearance  seriously.  Look  at  this 
document." 

He  held  out  a  half-printed,  half-written  sheet  which 
I  instantly  recognized  as  my  discharge,  but  the  big 
man  only  nodded,  his  hands  in  his  pockets. 

"  I  not  read  English  —  you  know  dot,"  he  said 
placidly. 

"  True,  I  had  forgotten.  This  is  the  fellow's  army 
discharge;  only  issued  six  or  seven  weeks  ago  at  Ma- 
nila. He  was  serving  in  the  ranks  over  there.  Got 
back  to  this  country  broke,  most  likely,  and  fell  into 
the  hands  of  those  schemers  up  North,  willing  enough 
to  do  anything  for  a  bunch  of  coin.  The  poor  devil 
probably  has  n't  got  a  friend  on  earth." 

"  But  someone  know  he  come  here." 

"  Only  the  two  who  sent  him,  and  they  '11  never  dare 
tell,  and  the  woman.  She  is  safe  enough.  Nigger 
Pete  drove  them  out  here,  and  we  can  close  his  mouth 
easily  enough.  It 's  been  easy,  Herman,  and  now  with 
these  two  settled  it  leaves  me  a  clear  field." 

192 


TAKEN  PRISONER 

"  Maybe  so  —  yes.  But  vat  you  think  it  all  mean? 
I  would  know  how  eet  vas  dey  come." 

The  younger  man  shuffled  the  papers  restlessly,  his 
eyes  on  the  face  of  the  other. 

"  I  confess  there  are  some  details  missing,  Herman," 
he  said  slowly,  "  but  in  the  main  it  is  clear  enough. 
I  take  it  this  man  Neale  is  a  damned  rascal.  He  went 
North  to  find  the  heir,  discovered  that  he  was  either 
dead,  or  had  disappeared,  ran  into  some  scamp  of  the 
same  kidney  as  himself,  and,  between  them,  determined 
to  cop  the  coin.  That 's  my  guess.  Then  they 
picked  up  this  penniless  soldier,  who,  by  the  way,  re- 
sembles the  missing  son  a  bit,  and  sent  him  down  here 
to  play  the  part.  Wrote  him  out  full  instructions," 
tapping  the  papers  suggestively,  "  and  then  sat  down 
there  to  wait  results." 

'  Vel,  maybe  so  —  but  vat  about  the  girl,  hey?  " 

"  Someone  they  picked  off  the  streets.  He  's  told  to 
do  it  in  this  letter.  They  thought  it  best  to  prove  their 
man  married,  and  so  had  to  procure  a  woman.  We 
won't  have  any  trouble  with  her." 

"  Vat  you  do  to  be  sure?  " 

''  Turn  her  loose  in  New  Orleans  with  a  few  dollars," 
carelessly.  "  All  she  knows  about  the  affair  can't  hurt 
13  I93 


GORDON  CRAIG 

us  if  she  does  squeal.  There  are  plenty  of  ways  to 
shut  her  mouth.  I  '11  know  better  how  to  handle  her 
case  right  when  I  see  her.  Broussard  is  a  long  time 
at  his  job." 

"  Perhaps  she  fight  heem  —  hey?  " 

"  The  worse  for  her  —  that  Creole  is  a  wild-cat. 
But  I  wish  he  would  hurry,  so  we  can  get  through  the 
Gut  on  the  flood  tide;  that  boat  draws  more  water 
than  is  comfortable  in  this  lagoon." 

"  You  need  not  worry,"  said  the  German,  placidly 
looking  at  his  watch.  "  I  take  eet  through  safe.  She 
dam  good  sea  boat,  an'  where  I  come  in  I  can  go  out. 
Ach!  'tis  the  fellow  come  now." 

The  newcomer  passed  so  close  beside  me  I  could  feel 
his  foot  touch  mine.  As  he  hurried  forward  I  realized 
the  eyes  of  the  two  men  would  be  upon  him,  and  that 
any  movement  of  mine  would  be  unobserved.  The 
door  remained  ajar,  and,  if  escape  was  possible,  now 
was  the  time.  With  head  reeling  dizzily,  I  crept 
through  the  opening,  yet  held  the  latch,  fascinated  by 
the  first  spoken  words  within. 

"  Well,  Broussard,  what  is  it?  " 

"  All  seen  to,  sir." 

"  The  bodies  are  planted  then?  " 

"  The  men  attended  to  that." 

194 


TAKEN  PRISONER 

"  And  the  woman?  " 

"  On  her  way;  there  was  no  trouble.  Sallie  had  her 
doped,  sir." 

"  I  expected  she  would.  Then  that  finishes  our  job 
here,  Herman,  and  the  quicker  we  are  off  the  better." 
The  two  men  arose  to  their  feet,  Herman  grumbling 
something  in  German,  but  the  younger  man  interrupted. 

"We  got  the  fellow  after  you  left,  Broussard;  hit 
him  a  bit  too  hard  it  seems,  but  no  one  will  ever  investi- 
gate, so  it 's  just  as  well.  Adventurer  named  Craig, 
just  discharged  from  the  army." 

"Where  is  he?" 

"  Lying  there  in  the  passage  behind  the  door.  Have 
Peters  and  Sam  bury  him  along  with  the  others,  and 
then  join  us.  We  '11  go  aboard." 

I  shut  the  door,  and  started  down  the  passage.  For 
a  dozen  steps  it  was  black  as  night;  then  there  was  a 
sharp  swerve  to  the  right,  and  a  gleam  of  daylight  in 
the  far  distance.  Already  they  were  at  the  barrier,  and 
I  ran  forward  recklessly,  eager  to  escape  into  the  open. 
The  way  was  clear,  the  floor  rising  slightly,  yet  without 
obstructions.  I  could  hear  voices,  the  pounding  of  feet 
behind,  and  I  made  desperate  effort  to  outdistance  my 
pursuers.  That  they  were  merciless  I  knew,  and  my 
only  hope  lay  in  attaining  some  hiding  place  in  the  weeds 

195 


GORDON  CRAIG 

before  they  could  emerge  into  the  daylight.  I  thought 
of  nothing  else.  But  as  I  burst,  straining  and  breathless 
into  the  open,  hands  gripped  me  from  both  sides.  An 
instant  I  struggled  to  break  free,  fighting  with  a  mad 
ferocity,  which  nearly  accomplished  the  purpose.  I  had 
one  down,  a  bearded  ruffian,  planting  my  fist  full  in  his 
face,  and  sent  the  other  groaning  backward  with  a 
kick  in  the  stomach,  when  the  three  from  within  burst 
forth  and  flung  me  face  down  into  the  earth,  and  pinned 
me  flat  beneath  their  weight.  An  instant  later  Brous- 
sard's  belt  was  strapped  tightly,  binding  my  hands 
helplessly  to  my  sides,  and  I  was  hurled  over  so  that 
I  stared  up  blindly  into  the  face  of  the  fellow  in 
command.  His  black  eyes  were  sneering,  while  the  un- 
pleasant smile  revealed  a  row  of  white  teeth. 

"  Great  God,  man,"  he  exclaimed,  "  you  must  have 
the  skull  of  an  elephant.  Are  you  actually  alive?  " 

"  Very  much  so,"  I  gasped,  defiant  still. 

"  Maybe  I  finish  heem,  Monsieur,"  questioned 
Broussard,  with  knee  still  planted  on  my  chest. 
"Then  he  not  talk,  hey?" 

The  leader  laughed,  with  a  wave  of  the  hand. 

"  You  take  the  fellow  far  too  seriously.  Let  him 
up.  I  '11  find  a  way  to  close  his  mouth  if  it  ever  be 
necessary.  Besides,  he  knows  nothing  to  do  any  harm. 

196 


TAKEN  PRISONER 

A  bit  groggy,  my  man.  Hold  him  on  his  feet,  you 
fellows." 

I  stood  helpless,  my  arms  bound,  gripped  tightly 
on  either  side,  gazing  full  into  the  villain's  face;  out 
of  the  depth  of  despair  and  defeat  there  had  come  an 
animating  ray  of  hope  —  they  were  going  to  take 
me  with  them.  Even  as  a  prisoner  I  should  be  near 
her.  Would  yet  be  able  to  dig  out  the  truth. 

"  You  take  heem  along,  Monsieur?  "  It  was  Brous- 
sard's  voice.  "  Zat  vat  you  mean?" 

"Certainly  —  why  not?  There's  plenty  of  work 
for  another  hand  on  board.  Trust  me  to  break  him 
in.  Come,  hustle  the  lad  along,  boys.  I  '11  be  with 
you  in  a  minute." 

They  drove  me  forward  roughly  enough,  the  Ger- 
man marching  phlegmatically  ahead,  still  silently  puff- 
ing at  his  pipe,  and  leading  the  way  along  a  narrow 
footpath  through  the  weeds.  This  wound  about  in 
such  crazy  fashion  that  I  lost  all  sense  of  both  direc- 
tion and  distance,  yet  finally  we  emerged  into  an  open 
space,  from  which  I  saw  the  chimneys  of  the  old  house 
far  away  to  our  left.  The  path  led  onward  into 
another  weed  patch  beyond,  down  a  steep  ravine,  and 
then  before  us  stretched  the  lonely  waters  of  the  bayou. 
Hidden  under  the  drooping  foliage  of  the  bank  was 

197 


GORDON  CRAIG 

a  small  boat,  a  negro  peacefully  sleeping  in  the  stern, 
with  head  pillowed  on  his  arm.  Herman  awoke  him 
with  a  German  oath,  and  the  way  the  fellow  sprang 
up,  his  eyes  popping  open,  was  evidence  of  the  treat- 
ment he  was  accustomed  to.  A  hasty  application  of 
an  oar  brought  the  boat's  nose  to  the  bank,  and  I  was 
thrust  in  unceremoniously,  the  three  others  following, 
each  man  shipping  an  oar  into  the  rowlocks.  Her- 
man alone  remained  on  shore,  scattering  the  embers 
of  a  small  fire,  and  staring  back  toward  the  house. 
A  few  moments  we  waited  in  silence,  then  the  slender 
figure  of  the  one  who  seemed  the  leading  spirit, 
emerged  from  out  the  cane.  He  glanced  at  the  mo- 
tionless figures  in  the  boat,  spoke  a  few  words  to  Her- 
man, and  then  the  two  joined  us,  the  latter  taking  the 
tiller,  the  former  pushing  off,  and  springing  alertly  into 
the  bow. 

Lying  between  the  thwarts,  face  turned  upward,  all 
I  could  see  distinctly  was  the  black  oarsman,  although 
occasionally,  when  he  leaned  forward,  I  caught  glimpses 
of  the  fellow  I  believed  to  be  the  captain  of  the  strange 
crew.  Our  boat  skirted  the  shore,  keeping  close  within 
the  concealing  shadows,  as  evidenced  by  overhanging 
trees.  The  only  word  spoken  was  a  growling  com- 
mand by  Herman  at  the  rudder,  and  the  oars  were 

198 


TAKEN  PRISONER 

noiseless  as  though  muffled.  Yet  the  men  rowed  with 
a  will,  and  scarcely  twenty  minutes  elapsed  ere  we  were 
scraping  along  the  side  of  a  vessel  of  some  size,  and 
then  came  to  a  stop  at  foot  of  a  boarding-ladder. 


199 


CHAPTER  XXI 

ON  BOARD  THE  SEA  GULL 

THE  Captain  —  for  so  I  must  call  him  —  went  up 
first,  after  hailing  the  deck  in  French,  and  receiv- 
ing some  answer.  Then,  under  Herman's  orders,  I 
was  hustled  roughly  to  my  feet,  and  bundled  aboard. 
My  head  still  reeled  dizzily,  and  the  two  men  gripping 
my  arms,  hurried  me  over  the  rail  so  swiftly  my  first 
impressions  were  extremely  vague.  I  knew  the  sides 
of  the  vessel  were  painted  a  dull  gray,  as  nearly  an 
invisible  color  as  could  be  conceived;  I  recall  the  sharp 
sheer  of  her  bow,  the  clearness  of  her  lines,  and  the  low 
sweep  of  her  rail.  Less  than  a  1,000  tons  burden,  I 
thought,  and  then,  as  my  eyes  swept  aloft,  and  along 
the  decks,  I  knew  her  for  either  a  private  yacht,  or 
tropic  fruit  steamer. 

"  First  stateroom,  second  cabin,"  said  a  new  voice, 
sharply.  "  Lively  now." 

"  Shall  we  unloose  the  ropes,  sir?  " 

"  Yes;  fasten  the  door,  and  leave  a  guard.  Stow 

200 


ON  BOARD  THE  SEA  GULL 

away  the  boat,   Broussard.     Everything  ready,   Cap- 
tain." 

I  went  down  a  broad  stairway,  shining  brass  rails  on 
either  side,  which  led  to  a  spacious  after-cabin.  A 
table  extended  its  full  length,  already  set  for  a  meal, 
and  a  round-faced  negro,  in  white  serving  jacket, 
grinned  at  me,  as  the  men  pressed  me  between  them 
into  a  narrow  passage  leading  forward.  A  moment 
later  I  was  unceremoniously  thrust  into  a  small  apart- 
ment on  the  right,  the  ropes  about  my  wrists  loosened, 
and  the  door  shut  and  locked  behind  me.  For  perhaps 
five  minutes  I  lay  where  I  had  been  so  unceremoniously 
dropped,  weakened  by  loss  of  blood,  and  dazed  by  the 
rapidity  of  events.  I  found  it  hard  to  adjust  my  facul- 
ties to  this  new  situation.  I  knew  what  had  occurred, 
but  into  whose  hands  I  had  fallen,  and  what  was  the 
purpose  of  this  outrage,  was  beyond  my  comprehension. 
One  thing,  however,  was  sufficiently  clear  —  these  men 
were  playing  for  big  stakes,  and  would  hesitate  at 
nothing  to  accomplish  their  purpose.  They  had  al- 
ready killed  without  remorse,  and  that  I  still  survived 
was  itself  a  mere  accident.  Yet  the  very  fact  that  I 
lived  yielded  me  fresh  confidence,  a  fatalistic  belief 
that  my  life  had  thus  been  spared  for  a  specific  purpose. 
It  might  yet  be  my  privilege  to  foil  these  villains,  and 

201 


GORDON  CRAIG 

rescue  Mrs.  Henley.  It  was  my  belief  she  was  also 
on  board  this  vessel.  I  had  no  reason  to  assume  this, 
except  the  wording  of  Broussard's  report  which  I  had 
overheard.  But  she  was  a  prisoner,  and  this  vessel 
would  be  the  most  likely  place  for  her  to  be  confined. 
I  sat  up,  my  flesh  burning,  and  stared  about.  The 
light  shining  through  the  single  closed  port  was  dim, 
convincing  me  the  sun  had  already  set,  yet  I  could 
perceive  the  few  furnishings  of  that  interior.  These 
consisted  merely  of  a  double  berth,  a  blanket  spread 
over  the  lower  mattress,  and  a  four-legged  stool. 
Hooks,  empty,  decorated  the  walls,  and  a  small  lamp 
dangled  from  the  overhead  beam.  As  I  got  to  my 
feet  I  could  feel  a  faint  throb  of  the  engine,  and  realized 
we  were  moving  slowly  through  the  water.  The  glass 
of  the  porthole  was  thick,  but  clear.  I  knelt  on  the 
berth,  and  looked  out,  dimly  perceiving  the  shore-line 
slipping  past,  with  an  ever-broadening  stretch  of  water 
intervening.  Then  I  sat  down  helplessly  on  the  stool, 
and  waited  for  something  to  occur.  Escape  was  im- 
possible; I  could  only  hope  for  some  movement  on 
the  part  of  my  captors. 

I  had  little  enough  to  think  over,  for  the  few  words 
spoken  in  the  cellar  had  furnished  no  clew.  My  pur- 
pose there  was  known,  and  these  men  had  considered 

202 


ON  BOARD  THE  SEA  GULL 

it  worth  while  to  put  me  out  of  the  way,  and  to  pick 
up  my  companion  also,  yet  I  could  not  directly  connect 
this  action  with  Judge  Henley's  will.  We  might  have 
merely  crossed  their  path,  interfered  with  their  crim- 
inal plans.  If  so,  then  it  was  more  than  likely  our 
release  would  not  be  long  delayed.  Indeed,  the  man 
who  appeared  to  be  the  chief,  had  already  said  he 
would  turn  the  girl  free  in  New  Orleans,  where  she 
could  do  them  no  harm.  New  Orleans  then  was, 
doubtless,  the  port  for  which  we  sailed.  My  knowl- 
edge of  distance  was  vague,  yet  that  could  not  be  a 
long  voyage,  nor  one  involving  any  great  danger.  It 
was  clear  they  meant  no  personal  harm  to  her,  and  they 
would  never  have  brought  me  on  board  alive,  if  they 
had  deemed  it  necessary  to  otherwise  dispose  of  me. 
These  considerations  were  in  the  main  reassuring,  and 
as  I  turned  them  over  in  my  mind  I  drifted  into  better 
humor.  Besides,  my  head  had  ceased  to  ache,  and  a 
little  exercise  put  my  numbed  limbs  into  fair  condition. 
It  was  fully  an  hour  after  the  coming  of  darkness 
before  I  was  disturbed.  Then  the  door  opened,  and 
the  entering  gleam  of  a  light  swinging  in  the  passage 
revealed  the  grinning  negro  steward  bearing  a  well- 
filled  tray.  This  he  deposited  in  the  berth,  while  ap- 
plying a  match  to  the  lamp  overhead.  I  saw  no  shadow 

203 


GORDON  CRAIG 

of  any  guard  outside,  but  the  fellow  made  no  effort  to 
close  the  door,  and  I  did  not  move,  confident  he  was 
not  alone.  As  he  turned  to  go,  however,  curiosity  com- 
pelled me  to  question  him,  his  good-natured  face  pro- 
vocative of  courage. 

"  Say,  George,  what  boat  is  this?  " 

"  Mah  name  is  Louis,  sah." 

"All  right,  Louis,  then;  what's  the  name  of  this 
vessel?  " 

"  She  am  de  Sea  Gull,  an'  a  mighty  fin'  boat,  sah." 

"  So  I  judge;  what  is  she,  fruiter,  or  private  yacht?  " 

"  I  reckon  I  don't  just  know,"  and  he  grinned. 

"  Perhaps  then  you  will  inform  me  where  we  are 
bound  —  I  suppose  you  know  that?  " 

"No,  sah;  de  captain  he  nebber  done  tol'  me,  sah, 
nothing  'bout  his  personal  plans.  All  he  done  said  wus 
fer  me  to  hustle  sum  grub  in  yere." 

"  But  surely,"  I  insisted  warmly,  "  you  know  what 
voyage  you  signed  on  for?  " 

"  Wai,  boss,  I  did  n't  sign  on  fer  no  vige.  I  'se  de 
steward,  sah,  an'  I  just  naturally  goes  'long  where  ebber 
de  ship  does.  'T  ain't  rightly  none  o'  my  business  what 
de  white  folks  'cides  to  do.  Good  Lor',  dey  don't 
never  ask  dis  nigger  nuthin'  'bout  dat.  All  I  got  ter 
do  is  just  go  'long  with  'em  —  dat 's  all." 

204 


ON  BOARD  THE  SEA  GULL 

The  shadow  of  a  man  blocked  the  doorway.  He 
was  one  of  those  who  had  been  in  the  small  boat,  and 
I  noticed  a  revolver  at  his  waist. 

"  That 's  enough,  boy.  Come,  now,  out  with  you," 
he  commanded  gruffly.  "Never  you  mind  the  door; 
I  '11  attend  to  that." 

He  pulled  the  door  to  after  the  retreating  form  of 
the  negro,  and  I  heard  the  sharp  click  of  the  latch,  and 
then  his  voice,  muffled  by  intervening  wood,  ordering 
the  steward  aft.  There  was  no  appearance  of  any 
lock  on  the  door;  probably  there  was  none,  as  other- 
wise it  would  not  have  been  necessary  to  post  a  guard. 
However,  this  was  clearly  no  time  to  experiment  and  I 
was  hungry  enough  to  forget  all  else  in  the  appetizing 
fragrance  of  the  meal  waiting.  I  fell  to  eagerly,  con- 
vinced there  was  a  good  cook  on  board,  and  enjoying 
every  morsel.  This  did  not  look  as  though  I  was 
destined  to  suffer,  and  merely  being  confined  in  these 
narrow  quarters  for  a  few  hours  was  no  great  hardship. 
Probably  the  girl  was  receiving  very  similar  treatment, 
and,  as  soon  as  the  Sea  Gull  made  whatever  port  was 
aimed  at,  we  would  both  be  put  ashore,  and  left  to  pro- 
ceed as  we  thought  best.  Indeed,  sitting  there  alone, 
under  the  inspiration  of  choice  food,  well  cooked,  I 
became  quite  cheerful,  dismissing  altogether  from  my 

205 


GORDON  CRAIG 

mind  any  apprehension  that  this  attack  upon  us  had  any 
connection  with  the  inheritance  of  Philip  Henley. 
These  people  were  lawless  enough,  without  doubt  —  the 
murders  already  committed  were  evidence  of  that  — 
but  all  they  desired  so  far  as  we  were  personally  con- 
cerned, was  to  get  us  safely  out  of  the  way,  where  we 
could  no  longer  interfere  with  their  plans.  What  those 
plans  might  be  I  could  merely  conjecture,  with  little 
enough  to  guide  my  guessing.  They  might  be  filibus- 
ters, connected  with  some  revolution  along  the  Central 
American  coast,  smugglers,  or  marauders  of  even  less 
respectability.  Their  methods  were  desperate  enough 
for  any  deeds  of  crime.  Without  doubt  they  utilized 
this  comparatively  forsaken  lagoon  as  a  hidden  ren- 
dezvous, and  the  deserted  Henley  plantation  —  from 
which  even  the  negroes  had  been  frightened  away  — 
was  an  ideal  spot  for  them  to  meet  in,  plan  their  raids, 
or  secrete  their  spoils.  These  fellows  were  doubtless 
the  ghosts  which  haunted  the  place,  and  had  given  it 
so  uncanny  a  reputation  throughout  the  neighborhood. 
They  would  naturally  resent  any  interference,  any 
change  in  ownership,  or  control.  Possibly,  if  they  were 
thieves,  as  I  more  than  half  suspected,  they  had  loot 
buried  nearby,  and  were  anxious  to  get  us  out  of  the 
way  long  enough  to  remove  it  unobserved.  This  ap- 

206 


ON  BOARD  THE  SEA  GULL 

pealed  to  me  as  by  far  the  most  probable  explanation. 

I  had  cleaned  the  dishes,  and  was  sitting  on  the  stool, 
leaning  back  against  the  wall,  already  becoming  sleepy, 
listening  to  the  rhythmic  pulsation  of  the  engines  at 
low  speed,  when  the  door  opened  again,  and  the  guard 
stood  revealed  before  me  in  the  glare  of  light. 

"  The  old  man  wants  you,"  he  explained  brusquely, 
waving  his  hand  aft  as  though  specifying  the  direction. 
"  Come  on,  now." 

"What  does  he  want?  " 

"  How  the  hell  do  I  know !  But  let  me  tell  you,  his 
orders  go  on  this  boat." 

I  preceded  him  along  the  narrow  passage,  utterly 
indifferent  to  the  threat  in  his  manner,  but  still  con- 
scious that  one  hand  gripped  the  butt  of  his  revolver. 
Without  doubt  the  fellow  had  orders  to  be  vigilant, 
and,  perhaps,  would  even  welcome  some  excuse  for  vio- 
lence. I  gave  him  none,  however,  hopeful  that  the 
approaching  interview  might  yield  new  information. 
The  cabin  was  unoccupied,  the  table  swung  up  against 
the  beams  of  the  upper  deck,  the  heavy  chairs  moved 
back  leaving  a  wide  open  space.  The  furnishings  were 
rich,  in  excellent  taste,  the  carpet  a  soft,  green  Wilton; 
the  hanging  lamp  quite  ornate,  while  a  magnificent 
upright  piano  was  firmly  anchored  against  the  butt  of 

207 


GORDON  CRAIG 

the  aftermast.  It  was  a  yacht-like  interior,  even  to  the 
sheet  music  on  the  rack,  and  a  gray  striped  cat  dozing 
on  one  of  the  softly  cushioned  chairs.  Gazing  about, 
I  could  scarcely  realize  this  was  an  abode  of  criminals, 
or  that  I  was  there  a  captive.  It  was  the  sudden  grip 
of  my  guard  which  brought  the  truth  relentlessly  home. 
'  This  is  no  movin'  picture  show,"  he  muttered. 
"  Hustle  along  thar,  in  back  o'  that  music  box.  See 
—  the  way  I  'm  pointin'." 

There  was  but  one  door,  evidence  that  a  single  cabin 
occupied  the  entire  space  astern,  and  I  stopped  before 
it,  my  companion  applying  his  knuckles  to  the  wood, 
but  without  removing  his  watchful  eyes  from  me.  A 
muffled  voice  asked  who  was  there,  and  at  the  response 
replied: 

"  Open  the  door  and  show  him  in,  Peters,  and  re- 
main where  you  are  within  call." 

I  entered,  conscious  of  a  strange  feeling  of  hesitancy, 
pausing  involuntarily  as  I  heard  the  door  close,  and 
glancing  hastily  about.  I  had  expected  a  scene  of  lux- 
ury, a  counterpart  of  the  outer  cabin.  Instead,  I  stood 
upon  a  plain,  uncarpeted  deck,  the  white  walls  and 
ceiling  undecorated.  On  one  side  was  a  double  tier 
of  berths,  lockers  were  between  the  ports,  and  heavy 
curtains  draped  the  two  windows  aft.  Opposite  the 

208 


ON  BOARD  THE  SEA  GULL 

berths  was  an  arm  rack,  containing  a  variety  of  weapons, 
and  the  only  floor  covering  was  a  small  rug  beneath 
a  desk  near  the  center  of  the  apartment.  This  latter 
was  littered  with  papers,  among  them  a  map  or  two, 
on  which  courses  had  been  pricked.  Beyond  these  all 
the  room  contained  was  a  small  bookcase,  crowded 
with  volumes,  and  a  few  chairs,  only  one  upholstered. 
The  only  person  present  occupied  this,  and  was  seated 
at  the  desk,  watching  me,  a  cigarette  smoking  between 
his  fingers.  It  was  the  olive-hued  man  of  the  cellar, 
the  one  I  had  picked  as  leader,  and  his  teeth  gleamed 
white  in  an  effort  to  smile.  In  spite  of  his  skin  and 
dark  eyes,  I  could  not  guess  at  his  nationality,  but  felt 
an  instinctive  dislike  to  him,  more  deeply  rooted  than 
before,  now  that  I  comprehended  how  completely  I 
was  in  his  power. 

"  Take  a  seat,  Craig,"  he  said,  speaking  with  a 
faint  accent  barely  perceptible.  '  The  second  chair 
will  be  found  the  more  comfortable.  Now  we  can 
talk  easily.  May  I  offer  you  a  cigarette?  " 

I  accepted  it  more  to  exhibit  my  own  coolness  than 
from  any  desire  to  smoke,  but  without  other  response. 
The  man  had  sent  for  me  for  some  specific  purpose, 
and  I  desired  to  learn  what  that  might  be  before  un- 
masking my  own  batteries. 
14  209 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  A  smoke  generally  leaves  me  in  more  genial 
humor,"  he  continued,  ignoring  my  reticence.  "  Mere 
habit,  of  course,  but  we  are  all  more  or  less  in  slavery 
to  the  weed.  I  trust  you  have  been  fairly  comfortable 
since  coming  on  board  the  Sea  Gull." 

"  As  much  so  as  a  prisoner  could  naturally  expect 
to  be,"  I  replied  indifferently.  "  This  vessel  then  is 
the  Sea  Gull?  " 

He  bowed,  with  an  expressive  gesticulation  of  the 
hand. 

"  At  present  —  yes.  In  days  gone  by  it  has  been 
found  convenient  to  call  her  the  Esmeralda,  the 
Seven  Sisters,  and  the  Becky  N.  The  name  is 
immaterial,  so  long  as  it  sounds  well,  and  conforms  to 
the  manifest.  However,  just  now  the  register  reads 
Sea  Gull,  Henley,  master,  850  tons,  schooner-rigged 
yacht." 

'  You  are  under  steam?  " 

"  Exactly;  auxiliary  steam  power." 

"In  what  trade?" 

"  Operated  for  pleasure  exclusively,"  a  slight  tone 
of  mockery  in  the  soft  voice.  "  A  rather  expensive 
luxury,  of  course,  but  available  all  the  year  around  in 
this  latitude." 

210 


ON  BOARD  THE  SEA  GULL 

"  I  failed  to  catch  the  captain's  name  —  yours,  I 
presume?  " 

He  laughed,  pausing  to  light  another  cigarette. 

"  Still  it  is  one  you  seem  fairly  familiar  with  — 
Henley,  Philip  Henley." 


211 


CHAPTER  XXII 

I   CHANGE    FRONT 

^  I  AHIS  statement  of  his  identity,  spoken  calmly,  and 
-*-     smilingly,  was  such  a  surprise  that  I  could  but 
stare  at  the  man,  half  convinced  I  had  misunderstood 
his  words. 

'  You  see,  Craig,"  he  continued  quietly,  apparently 
comprehending  my  state  of  mind,  "  your  little  game  is 
up.  Not  a  bad  plan  originally  —  something  of  a 
criminal  genius  that  fellow  Neale  —  but  he  failed  to 
count  on  the  fact  that  I  was  very  much  alive,  and  fully 
capable  of  attending  to  my  own  affairs.  By  the  way, 
what  part  did  the  girl  play  in  this  little  conspiracy? 
Merely  a  friend  of  yours,  who  came  along  for  com- 
pany? " 

"  Certainly  not,"  I  replied  indignantly.     "  Have  you 
seen  her?  " 

"  Not  yet;  I  preferred  coming  to  an  understanding 
with  you  first." 

"  A  condition  you  may  not  find  as  easy  as  you  antic- 

212 


I  CHANGE  FRONT 

ipate,"  I  retorted,  angered  at  his  cool  insolence.  "  If 
you  are  Philip  Henley,  then  the  lady  you  are  holding 
prisoner  is  your  wife." 

He  laughed,  leaning  back  again  in  his  chair. 

"  Well,  hardly.  I  rather  surmised  that  was  the  idea 
from  a  sentence  or  two,  in  these  instructions,"  and  he 
touched  a  bundle  of  papers  on  the  desk.  "  Careless 
way  to  carry  such  evidence  around  —  shows  the  ama- 
teur. Thought  it  would  add  to  the  appeal  to  justice 
for  Henley  to  have  a  wife,  I  presume.  Why  not  a 
child  also?  Permit  me  to  state,  my  dear  sir,  that  I 
possess  no  such  encumbrance." 

"  It  happens,"  I  contended  coldly,  "  that  I  have  seen 
the  marriage  certificate." 

He  sat  up  stiffly,  the  sarcastic  grin  leaving  his  face, 
and  replaced  by  an  expression  of  vindictiveness. 

"  Oh,  you  have !  As  much  a  forgery  a?  some  of 
these  other  precious  documents.  You  win  certainly 
grant  that  I  ought  to  know  whether  I  am  married  or 
not?" 

"  I  made  no  assertion  relative  to  that." 

"  What  did  you  assert?  " 

;<  That  Philip  Henley  was  married,  and  that  his 
wife  —  or  widow,  as  the  case  may  be  —  is  the  lady  who 
accompanied  me  to  Carrollton." 

213 


GORDON  CRAIG 

He  leaned  forward,  both  arms  on  the  desk,  his  black 
eyes  narrowed  into  mere  slits. 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  finally.  "  Driven  out  of  one  position, 
like  a  good  general,  you  have  another  in  reserve.  You 
are  more  of  an  antagonist  than  I  had  supposed,  Craig. 
So  now  it  is  the  widow  who  claims  the  ducats.  Am  I 
also  to  understand  that  you  are  prepared  to  submit 
proof  of  the  death  of  Philip  Henley?  By  the  saints; 
I  am  becoming  interested." 

"  Naturally,  if  you  claim  to  be  the  man.  I  have 
not  said  he  was  dead,  for  I  do  not  know.  I  came  down 
here  believing  him  alive.  His  wife  is  almost  convinced 
otherwise.  All  I  am  actually  certain  about  now  is 
that  you  are  not  the  man." 

"  You  are  extremely  free-spoken  for  a  fellow  in 
your  condition.  You  will  at  least  confess  that  I  am 
master  on  board  this  ship;  that  my  word  here  is  law, 
and  you  are  in  my  power." 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  why  expose  yourself,  and  that  young  woman, 
to  unnecessary  danger?  To  be  frank,  Craig,  I  sent 
for  you  just  now  in  a  friendly  spirit.  You  can  be  de- 
cidedly useful  to  me,  and  I  can  afford  to  pay  well  for 
services  rendered.  Now  wait!  don't  break  in  until  I 
am  through.  I  know  who  you  are,  and  how  you  origi- 

214 


I  CHANGE  FRONT 

nally  became  involved  in  this  affair.  You  have  no  per- 
sonal interest  in  the  final  outcome,  so  you  receive  the 
amount  promised.  You  are  a  mere  soldier  of  fortune, 
an  adventurer.  Good!  Then  it  is  certainly  to  your 
interest  to  be  on  the  winning  side.  What  did  Neale, 
and  that  other  fellow  —  Vail  —  offer?  " 

I  sat  looking  at  him  steadily  for  a  moment.  That 
he  was  a  shrewd,  scheming  villain  I  had  no  doubt,  but 
the  one  question  which  controlled  my  answer  was  the 
thought  of  how  I  could  best  serve  her.  If  I  followed 
my  inclination,  told  him  frankly  that  I  had  already  de- 
serted my  allegiance  to  those  men  in  the  North,  and 
only  remained  loyal  to  the  woman,  the  confession  would 
possibly  react  upon  us  both.  We  would  be  held  pris- 
oners indefinitely.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  I  appeared 
to  hesitate,  a  way  of  service  might  be  opened  before 
me,  Lnd,  with  it,  a  path  to  freedom,  for  us  both.  The 
decision  had  to  be  made  quickly. 

"  Never  mind  the  sum,"  I  said  soberly.  "  I  am 
not  altogether  mercenary,  although  I  need  money.  I  '11 
say  this,  however,  and  you  can  take  it  for  what  it  may 
be  worth.  I  originally  came  into  this  game  believing 
I  was  doing  a  kindness  to  a  helpless  man  who  was  being 
defrauded  of  his  rights.  There  is  no  necessity  of  my 
going  into  details,  but  Neale  told  me  an  apparently 

215 


GORDON  CRAIG 

straight  story,  and  convinced  me  my  part  was  a  mere 
form.  Later  I  learned  different,  and  promptly  quit. 
I  have  n't  sent  in  a  line  of  report  to  my  employers." 

4  What  convinced  you  of  the  fraud?  " 

"  A  conversation  with  Mrs.  Henley." 

"Oh,  the  woman,  hey!"  his  tone  again  sarcastic. 
"Always  the  woman;  more  to  be  valued  than  great 
riches,  aye!  even  than  fine  gold.  Good  Lord,  Craig, 
don't  be  a  wooden-headed  fool.  I  tell  you  plainly 
Philip  Henley  was  never  married,  and  I  know.  This 
girl  is  a  mere  adventuress  unworthy  of  any  consider- 
ation." 

'You  claim  still  to  be  Henley?"  I  asked,  stifling 
my  indignation. 

"  Not  only  claim,  but  am.  My  identity  is  already 
firmly  established  in  court.  Lawyers  have  the  final 
papers  ready  to  file." 

"  You  do  not  in  any  way  resemble  the  photograph 
shown  me  of  the  man." 

"A  fake  picture;  we  have  known  something  of 
Neale's  plans  from  the  first." 

The  man  was  apparently  so  confident,  that  I  began 
to  doubt  my  own  conclusions,  and  yet  I  could  not  doubt 
her.  Whatever  other  falsehoods  might  compass  me 
about,  she  was  to  be  implicitly  trusted. 

216 


I  CHANGE  FRONT 

"  Is  the  woman  on  board?  "  I  questioned. 

He  hesitated  just  an  instant. 

"  Yes." 

"  Will  you  have  her  brought  here?  " 

He  walked  across  the  cabin  twice,  turning  the  propo- 
sition over  in  his  mind.  Apparently  concluding  that 
the  ordeal  might  as  well  be  over  with  first  as  last,  he 
opened  the  door,  and  gave  an  order  to  Peters.  Then 
he  returned  to  his  seat  at  the  desk. 

"  This  is  all  silly  enough,  Craig,  but  I  might  as  well 
convince  you  both  now,  as  later,  that  I  hold  the  cards. 
The  lady  may  try  a  bluff,  if  she  is  that  kind,  but  it  will 
be  soon  c  ^er." 

We  waited  silently,  and  I  endeavored  swiftly  to 
formulate  a  satisfactory  course  of  action.  In  spite  of 
all  my  faith  in  her  —  which  could  never  waver  —  it 
was  clearly  evident  this  fellow  had  us  helpless  in  his 
grasp.  If  I  was  to  become  free  to  act  it  could  only  be 
by  yielding  to  his  expressed  desires,  and  apparently  ac- 
cepting his  claims.  That  this  would  separate  me  for 
the  time  from  Mrs.  Henley,  alienate  her  friendship,  was 
a  certainty.  Yet  I  must  risk  all  this  even  to  be  of  real 
service.  The  end  would  justify  the  means.  We  were 
confronted  by  no  common  scoundrel,  and  here  was  a 
case  where  fire  could  only  be  fought  with  flame.  I  did 

217 


GORDON  CRAIG 

not  for  an  instant  believe  he  was  Philip  Henley,  yet  he 
was  apparently  fortified  with  strong  evidence  to  sustain 
that  claim.  The  very  fact  that  he  so  strenuously  de- 
nied that  Philip  was  married,  convinced  me  he  was  an 
impostor,  that  he  had  never  even  heard  of  this  secret 
wedding.  Probably  the  Judge  had  not  mentioned  it 
while  living,  nor  written  any  memoranda  concerning  it. 
Yet  Neale  knew,  and  there  could  be  no  question  as  to 
the  truth  of  the  matter.  In  view  of  all  I  decided  openly 
to  cast  my  fortunes  with  the  man,  and  appear  angry  at 
the  deceit  with  which  she  had  ensnared  me.  I  dreaded 
the  result,  the  expression  my  apparent  desertion  would 
bring  to  her  face,  but  this  seemed  the  only  wa^  possible 
for  me  to  unmask  the  fellow.  He  had  clearly  enough 
catalogued  me  in  his  own  class,  as  one  who  would  serve 
any  master  for  sufficient  reward.  Very  well,  let  him 
so  continue  to  think,  until  I  could  turn  the  tables,  and 
pay  him  back  in  his  own  coin.  And  the  quickest  way 
in  which  to  convince  him  that  I  was  altogether  his  man, 
was  to  denounce  the  girl  in  his  presence,  and  frankly 
avow  myself  on  his  side.  Difficult  as  this  task  would 
prove  —  at  least  until  I  could  make  some  explanation 
to  her  —  it  was  the  sensible  course  to  pursue.  I  hard- 
ened myself  to  it,  my  eyes  on  the  outlines  of  the  man's 
face,  as  he  shuffled  the  papers  on  his  desk. 

218 


I  CHANGE  FRONT 

"  Do  you  mind  telling  me  where  this  vessel  is 
bound?"  I  asked,  not  only  curious  to  learn,  but  also 
anxious  to  break  the  silence. 

"  No  objections  whatever,  Craig,  if  I  knew  myself," 
he  answered  carelessly.  '  The  Sea  Gull  being  my 
property  sails  on  my  orders,  and,  at  present,  those 
orders  are  merely  to  put  out  to  sea." 

"  You  spoke  of  leaving  the  lady  ashore  at  New  Or- 
leans." 

"Oh,  back  at  the  house?  You  overheard  that? 
Well,  I  am  not  above  changing  my  mind  in  such  mat- 
ters. From  what  you  have  just  told  me  I  infer  the 
young  woman  is  more  dangerous  than  I  had  supposed. 
Perhaps  some  foreign  port  would  be  the  safer  landing 
place.  I  shall  determine  that  after  our  coming  inter- 
view. This  will  be  the  lady  now." 

We  both  arose  to  our  feet  as  she  entered,  glancing 
about  her  curiously  at  the  rather  strange  surroundings, 
then  stopping  irresolutely,  apparently  recognizing 
neither  of  us.  The  light  from  the  hanging  lamp, 
waving  somewhat  from  the  movement  of  the  vessel, 
served  to  soften  the  lines  of  her  face,  and  reveal  the 
delicate  beauty.  About  her  were  no  signs  of  fatigue 
or  fear.  Suddenly  the  light  of  recognition  leaped  into 
her  eyes,  and  she  took  a  quick  step  forward. 

219 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  Mr.  Craig  —  you  here  ?  Why,  I  can  hardly  under- 
stand. Were  you  made  prisoner  also?  " 

"  I  suppose  that  to  be  my  status,  although  I  hardly 
know,"  I  answered,  yet  unable  to  refrain  from  accept- 
ing the  extended  hand.  "  I  was  certainly  brought 
aboard  in  chains,  and  much  against  my  will.  I  pre- 
sume you  know  this  person?" 

She  swept  my  face  with  a  swift,  questioning  glance, 
and  then  looked  beyond  me  at  the  man  standing  beside 
the  desk. 

"  No,  I  do  not,"  slowly.  "  I  have  no  remembrance 
of  ever  seeing  him  before." 

"  Is  that  not  rather  strange,"  I  asked,  steeling  my- 
self to  the  task,  "  after  asserting  that  he  was  your  hus- 
band? He  is  the  owner  of  this  vessel  —  Philip  Hen- 
ley." 

She  reached  out  gropingly,  and  grasped  the  back  of 
a  chair,  staring  at  his  face,  md  then  glancing  into  mine, 
as  though  bewildered,  suspecting  some  trick.  I  could 
see  her  lips  move,  as  if  she  endeavored  to  speak,  but 
could  not  articulate  the  words.  Henley  —  for  I  must 
call  him  that  —  advanced  a  step  toward  us,  his  thin 
lips  fashioning  themselves  into  an  ironic  smile. 

'  You  receive  this  information  about  as  I  supposed 
you  would,  Madam,"  he  said  coldly.  "  I  was  doubt- 

220 


I  CHANGE  FRONT 

less  the  very  last  person  you  expected  to  encounter. 
Your  accomplice  here  informs  me  that  I  am  supposed  to 
be  dead.  I  am  inclined  to  think  you  were  both  mis- 
taken —  but  not  more  so  than  in  regard  to  my  mar- 
riage." 

She  straightened  up,  her  eyes  shining. 

"  You  are  not  Pnilip  Henley,"  she  said  firmly.  "  He 
is  my  husband." 

The  smile  widened,  revealing  the  cruel  white  teeth. 

"  I  expected  heroics.  It  was  hardly  to  be  supposed 
that  you  would  confess  your  fraud  at  once,  and  —  be- 
fore your  lover." 

She  shrank  back,  her  hands  still  extended. 

"  My  —  my  lover  — " 

"  Now  stop !  "  I  broke  in,  every  nerve  tingling,  as 
I  stepped  between  them.  "  Another  insinuation  like 
that,  and  you  will  learn  what  I  can  do.  You  may  be 
captain  of  this  boat,  but  you  are  alone  with  us  now, 
and  I  can  kill  you  before  you  could  utter  a  cry.  So 
help  me  God,  I  will,  if  you  dare  insult  her  again." 

He  reeled  back  against  the  desk,  although  I  do  not 
think  I  touched  him,  and  his  hand  sought  an  open 
drawer.  I  knew  him  instantly  for  a  coward,  and 
gripped  his  wrist,  hurling  him  from  me  half  across  the 
room. 

221 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  I  '11  stand  here,  and  you  over  there.  I  prefer  deal- 
ing with  your  kind  with  bare  hands.  Now  if  you 
have  any  reply  to  make  to  this  lady's  assertions  put  it 
in  decent  language." 

He  gasped  a  bit,  rubbing  his  bruised  wrist,  his  eyes 
shifting  to  the  closed  door  as  though  contemplating  an 
alarm.  But  I  stood  where  I  could  block  any  effort, 
and  I  doubt  if  he  liked  the  expression  on  my  face. 

'  There  is  no  use  going  off  at  half  cock,  Craig,"  he 
snarled.  "  I  did  n't  mean  any  insult.  And  I  '11  get 
you  for  that  some  time.  You  '11  learn  yet  what  the 
Sea  Gull  is." 

"  No  doubt,"  I  coincided,  tired  of  his  threats,  and 
awakened  to  the  fact  that  this  quarrel  was  not  likely  to 
help  our  chances.  "  But  for  a  few  minutes  it  will  be 
worth  your  while  to  listen  to  me.  I  am  not  defending 
this  woman  from  anything  but  unnecessary  insults.  If 
she  has  deceived  me  I  want  to  find  it  out.  If  you  are 
Philip  Henley,  as  you  claim  to  be,  you  must  have  evi- 
dence to  prove  it.  Convince  me  that  her  assertions 
are  false,  and  you  will  not  find  me  unreasonable." 

"  Gordon  Craig,  do  you  mean  — " 

I  turned  to  her,  steeling  myself  to  look  into  her  ap- 
pealing eyes. 

"  I  have  been  honest  with  you  from  the  beginning," 

222 


I  CHANGE  FRONT 

I  interrupted  abruptly.  "  Now,  if  I  discover  that  your 
statements  are  false,  the  inducements  are  all  the  other 
way.  I  am  a  soldier  of  fortune." 


223 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE  SECRET  OF  THE  VOYAGE 

HENLEY  laughed,  the  sound  grating  harshly  on 
my  nerves,  yet  I  made  no  movement  of  protest 
as  he  stepped  silently  back  to  his  desk.  I  was  no  longer 
afraid  of  the  fellow,  even  although  he  might  have  a 
weapon  concealed  in  one  of  the  drawers,  for  I  knew  I 
had  drawn  his  fangs.  This  open  avowal  on  my  part 
was  sufficient  to  convince  one  of  his  stripe  that  I  was 
concerned  only  with  my  own  interests.  Whatever  sus- 
picion he  may  have  previously  entertained  regarding 
my  relations  with  the  lady  were  now  thoroughly  evapo- 
rated. Assured  in  his  own  mind  that  Philip  had  never 
been  married,  he  was  now  easily  convinced  that  I  had 
merely  associated  myself  with  a  girl  from  the  streets, 
whom  I  was  only  too  glad  to  desert  upon  any  plausible 
excuse.  His  words  confirmed  my  judgment. 

"  Well  said,  my  man.  Now  we  begin  to  understand 
each  other.  Of  course  I  have  the  proofs.  I  would 
be  a  fool  to  sit  in  such  a  game  without  a  winning  hand. 

224 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  VOYAGE 

Sit  down,  both  of  you,  while  we  talk  this  over.  There 
is  no  reason  why  the  three  of  us  should  not  be  friends, 
providing  you  are  sensible." 

She  had  never  removed  her  gaze  from  me,  standing 
white-faced  and  rigid,  as  though  unable  to  fully  com- 
prehend. I  doubt  if  she  heard,  to  distinguish,  a  syllable 
he  spoke,  her  every  thought  centered  on  my  renuncia- 
tion. 

"  But  —  but  I  am  his  wife,"  she  panted  indignantly. 
"Philip  Henley's  wife.  I  —  I  showed  you  our  cer- 
tificate." 

"  A  fake,  a  forgery,"  asserted  the  other  roughly, 
before  I  could  find  voice.  "  You  had  it  framed  up  all 
right,  if  you  had  never  run  across  me.  Show  me  the 
paper." 

"  I  cannot,  for  it  is  not  here.  I  placed  it  in  my 
valise  back  at  that  house."  She  stepped  forward  with 
hands  held  out  toward  me.  "  But  you  know  —  Gordon 
Craig,  you  know.  I  could  not  have  forged  that;  I 
had  not  time;  no  information  which  would  have  led 
to  such  an  act.  You  tell  him  so." 

"  I   hardly  think  he  will,   Madam,"  returned  the 

Captain  shortly,  evidently  feeling  it  better  not  to  let 

me  speak.     "  And  there  is  no  use  going  on  with  this 

any  farther.     Answer  me  a  question  or  two,  that  is 

15  225 


GORDON  CRAIG 

all.  Did  n't  Craig  tell  you  why  he  was  coming  down 
here?" 

"  Yes,"  the  single  word  scarcely  auJible. 

"  He  explained  to  you  in  detail  what  was  expected 
of  him?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Some  hours  before  you  left,  was  n't  it?  " 

"  Yes." 

;t  Then  you  had  sufficient  time,  and  knowledge  to 
complete  your  plans.  When  did  you  first  tell  Craig 
you  were  Philip  Henley's  wife?" 

I  clinched  my  hands  at  the  bewildered  embarrass- 
ment in  her  eyes,  at  the  sneer  in  the  voice  of  the  ques- 
tioner, yet  held  myself  silent. 

"  It  was  after  we  came  here;  when  I  was  frightened, 
and  felt  that  I  must  confess  the  truth.  I  —  I  had  be- 
gun to  trust  him." 

"  Oh,  indeed,  and  you  failed  to  tell  him  at  first  be- 
cause you  did  not  trust  him." 

"Partially  that  —  yes.  Although  I  do  not  think 
the  name  Henley  was  even  mentioned  during  our  first 
interview.  I  am  sure  I  did  not  realize  it  was  my  hus- 
band's father  who  was  dead  until  later." 

"  Exactly;  you  picked  up  a  strange  man  on  the  street; 
agreed  to  go  off  on  a  criminal  mission  with  him,  and 

226 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  VOYAGE 

now  expect  us  to  believe  you  perfectly  innocent  of  any 
wrong  intent." 

"  That  will  be  enough,"  I  interrupted,  unable  to  re- 
main quiet  any  longer.  "  The  motives  of  the  woman, 
and  how  we  chanced  to  meet,  are  no  concern  of  yours. 
If  you  are  Philip  Henley,  prove  it,  and  let  it  go  at  that. 
I  have  told  you  plainly  enough  where  I  stand." 

He  gazed  with  black  eyes  narrowed  into  slits  at  the 
two  of  us,  too  pleased  with  himself  to  doubt  his  success. 
The  sarcastic  smile  curling  his  lips  caused  me  to  swear 
under  my  breath,  but  I  had  gone  too  far  now  to  retreat. 

"  Just  as  you  say,  Craig,"  affecting  an  easy  good  na- 
ture. "  That  is  perfectly  agreeable  to  me.  However, 
as  it  makes  no  difference  what  the  late  Mrs.  Henley 
thinks,  we  will  dismiss  her  from  the  case,  and  settle 
the  affair  quietly  between  ourselves.  I  Ve  got  a  propo- 
sition which  will  interest  you."  He  touched  a  button, 
and  I  heard  the  sharp  tingle  of  a  bell  outside.  Almost 
instantly  the  door  in  the  cabin  opened.  "  That  you-, 
Peters?  Conduct  the  woman  back  to  her  stateroom, 
lock  the  door,  and  bring  me  the  key." 

He  bent  forward,  searching  for  something  in  a 
pigeonhole  to  his  right,  and  I  caught  her  eyes,  touch- 
ing my  lips  with  my  fingers  to  signal  silence,  while  an 
inclination  of  the  head  told  her  to  go  without  resistance. 

227 


GORDON  CRAIG 

The  swift  change  of  expression  on  her  face  proved  her 
instant  comprehension,  as,  without  uttering  a  word  of 
protest,  she  turned,  and  disappeared.  Henley  never 
glanced  up  from  his  work  of  selecting  papers  from  a 
bundle  under  his  hands,  nor  did  I  move,  until  after 
Peters  returned  with  the  key.  Henley  dropped  it  into 
his  pocket. 

"  That  will  be  all,"  he  said;  "  you  can  go." 

"  You  mean  I  am  off  duty,  sir?  " 

"  Certainly;  you  understand  English,  don't  you? 
There  will  be  no  more  guard  work  tonight." 

As  the  door  closed  again  behind  Peters  the  fellow 
rose  to  his  feet,  and  held  out  his  hand.  "  You  are  the 
kind  I  like,  Craig,"  he  said  cordially.  "  At  first  I 
had  my  doubts  about  you,  and  no  doubt  have  been 
harsh.  To  be  perfectly  honest  I  thought  you  would 
be  all  right  under  ordinary  circumstances,  but  was  afraid 
the  girl  had  a  sentimental  hold  on  you  which  would 
make  you  difficult  to  handle.  Lord,  she  thought  so 
too.  Did  you  see  her  face  when  you  first  sided  in  with 
me?  She  wilted  completely.  Well,  that  will  make 
the  rest  easy.  Sit  down  again,  and  I  will  explain  what 
I  want  you  for." 

I  accepted  the  chair  indicated,  but  was  not  yet  alto- 
gether ready  to  hear  his  proposition. 

228 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  VOYAGE 

"  Just  a  moment,"  I  said  firmly.  "  I  may  be  the 
man  you  want,  and  all  that,  but  I  have  got  to  be  con- 
vinced first  that  I  am  not  making  another  mistake.  I 
came  down  here  originally  believing  myself  an  agent 
of  justice,  only  to  discover  I  had  been  duped.  This 
time  I  insist  on  the  truth.  I  may  be  a  soldier  of  for- 
tune, but  I  prefer  choosing  the  side  on  which  I  fight." 

'  You  mean  you  wish  to  assure  yourself  I  have  the 
right  of  it,"  he  asked  smilingly,  "before  you  enlist? 
There  is  nothing  unreasonable  to  that.  Unfortunately, 
however,"  and  he  picked  up  the  papers  from  the  desk, 
"  I  can  only  furnish  you  corroborative  proofs  now. 
Still,  I  think  these  will  be  convincing.  The  legal  papers, 
which  absolutely  establish  my  identity  as  Philip  Hen- 
ley, are  in  the  hands  of  lawyers,  who  represent  me  at 
Carrollton.  The  case  will  not  come  up  for  adjudica- 
tion for  several  weeks  yet,"  speaking  slowly,  and  with 
careful  choice  of  words,  "  but  my  contention  as  heir 
to  the  property  is  thoroughly  established.  It  had  to 
be,  for  as  you  know  the  Judge's  son  had  been  away 
from  this  neighborhood  for  years,  practically  ever  since 
boyhood.  He  was  almost  unknown  to  the  local  in- 
habitants, even  to  the  servants.  He  was  even  reported 
as  being  dead.  This  state  of  affairs  made  identification 
the  most  important  thing  to  be  considered.  Conse- 

229 


GORDON  CRAIG 

quently  all  documents  bearing  directly  on  that  point 
are,  at  present,  out  of  my  reach.     You  understand?  " 

"Yes;  only  you  must  have  retained  something  to 
substantiate  your  word." 

"  Precisely.  I  was  coming  to  that.  I  have  letters 
from  my  father  which  should  be  sufficient.  You  have 
seen  Judge  Henley's  writing?  "  and  he  handed  me  a 
half  dozen  missives.  They  were  without  envelopes, 
each  beginning  simply,  "  My  Dear  Son,"  relating  princi- 
pally to  local  conditions  on  the  plantation,  and  occasion- 
ally expressing  a  desire  for  the  wanderer  to  return,  and 
assume  the  burden  of  management.  Instead  of  names, 
initials  were  employed  to  designate  individuals  re- 
ferred to,  and  it  was  evident  the  recipient  had  been 
addressed  at  various  places.  That  they  were  in  the 
crabbed  and  peculiar  handwriting  of  the  old  Judge 
was  beyond  all  question,  and  the  dates  covered  several 
years.  I  read  them  through  carefully,  puzzled  by  their 
contents. 

'  There  are  no  envelopes?  " 

"  No;  I  never  keep  them  —  why?  " 

"Only  that  no  name  is  mentioned;  they  begin  all 
alike,  '  My  Dear  Son.'  " 

"  I  never  thought  of  that,"  he  admitted,  simulating 
surprise,  "  but  can  supplement  by  showing  you  this  pic- 

230 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  VOYAGE 

ture,  taken  three  years  ago  at  Mobile.  Of  course  you 
will  recognize  myself,  but  may  never  have  seen  a  photo- 
graph of  Judge  Henley." 

'  I  never  have." 

"  Well,  that  is  his  likeness,  and  there  are  those  on 
board  who  will  identify  it.  Does  this  satisfy  you  that 
I  am  what  I  claim  to  be?  " 

In  truth  it  did  not,  for  I  would  have  believed  nothing 
in  opposition  to  the  positive  statement  of  the  woman 
that  he  was  not  Philip  Henley.  Her  simple  assertion 
weighed  more  with  me  than  any  proofs  he  might  sub- 
mit. Yet  his  coolness  of  demeanor,  and  the  tone  of 
the  letters,  evidently  written  in  confidence  from  father 
to  son,  were  unanswerable.  Under  other  conditions 
—  divorced  from  what  I  knew  —  they  would  be  con- 
clusive. Now  I  could  only  wonder  at  them,  groping 
blindly  for  some  solution.  Were  they  really  addressed 
to  him,  or  had  he  stolen  them  ?  If  the  latter,  then  how 
had  he  succeeded  in  getting  his  picture  on  the  same 
plate  with  Judge  Henley's?  And  what  were  those 
other  more  important  documents  on  which  he  rested 
his  claim?  These  considerations  flashed  through  my 
mind,  yet  I  was  sufficiently  aroused  to  answer  quickly, 
aware  that  even  the  slightest  hesitancy  might  awaken 
suspicion. 

231 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  It  would  seem  to  be  unanswerable,"  I  replied,  re- 
placing letters  and  photograph  on  the  desk.  "  What 
hurts  my  pride  is  to  have  been  made  such  a  fool  of." 

"That's  nothing,  Craig;  we  have  all  had  that  ex- 
perience. You  merely  fell  into  the  clutches  of  some 
shrewd  men,  and  a  designing  woman.  Fortunately 
you  have  discovered  the  truth  before  any  great  harm  has 
been  done,  and  I  stand  ready  to  give  you  a  chance  now 
on  the  winning  side.  I  would  rather  have  you  with 
me  than  opposed,  and  there  will  be  more  money  in  it 
for  us  both.  What  do  you  say?  " 

"  I  should  prefer  to  know  more  about  your  propo- 
sition." 

"  It  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  Henley 
matter,"  he  exclaimed,  leaning  back  in  his  chair,  and 
surveying  me  shrewdly  through  his  dark  eyes.  "  That 
is  practically  settled  already,  so  you  will  not  be  further 
involved  with  the  girl." 

"  You  would  oblige  me  by  leaving  her  name  out  of 
the  discussion  then,"  I  interposed  coldly.  "  Even  her 
presence  on  board  is  distasteful  under  the  circum- 
stances." 

He  chuckled,  well  satisfied  with  his  diplomacy. 

"I  understand  that;  however,  we  cannot  obliterate 
her  entirely.  Pretty  enough  to  be  useful  too,  I  imagine, 

232 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  VOYAGE 

if  she  can  ever  be  brought  to  view  this  affair  from  the 
right  angle.  Could  n't  you  be  induced  to  attempt  a 
little  missionary  work?  Love-making  at  sea  is  said 
to  be  especially  pleasant." 

I  shook  my  head,  gazing  directly  into  his  eyes,  barely 
able  to  keep  from  throttling  him. 

"  Drop  it,"  I  said  sternly.  "  The  girl  is  to  be  left 
alone  if  I  have  any  part  in  your  scheme.  Now  I  want 
to  know  what  is  expected  of  me;  may  I  ask  questions?  " 

He  lit  another  cigarette,  calmly  indifferent  to  all 
outward  appearance. 

"  Certainly  —  fire  away." 
'  Where  are  we  bound?  " 

"  Spanish  Honduras,"  lazily,  but  spreading  out  a 
map,  and  tapping  it  with  his  finger.  "  Perto  Cortez, 
if  we  can  make  that  port  safely;  if  not  then  somewhere 
along  the  coast  between  there  and  Trupillo.  There 
will  be  signals." 

I  leaned  forward,  startled  out  of  my  self-restraint. 

"Honduras!  Good  Lord!  what  are  you  —  a  fili- 
buster?" 

"  Hardly,"  with  a  short  laugh.  "  That  is  too  dan- 
gerous a  job,  and  not  money  enough  in  it.  I  pre- 
fer to  do  my  revoluting  through  others,  and  cop  the 
swag.  That  is  the  safe  end  of  the  game.  It  happens 

233 


GORDON  CRAIG 

to  l>e  Honduras  just  now;  I  have  been  equally  inter- 
ested in  other  downtrodden  countries.  In  truth, 
friend,  I  am  a  patriot  for  revenue  only." 
"  You  mean  you  furnish  arms?  " 
"  For  a  suitable  consideration  —  yes.  In  strict  confi- 
dence I  will  state  that  securely  packed  away  in  the  hold 
of  the  Sea  Gull  —  largely  in  boxes  labeled  machinery  — 
are  twenty  thousand  rifles,  six  rapid-fire  guns,  and  a 
sufficiency  of  ammunition  for  a  small  army.  Once 
safely  landed  the  profits  of  the  voyage  will  total  one 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars,  gold.  A  rather 
tidy  sum,  hey?  " 

I  grasped  the  idea  swiftly  enough,  and  it  cleared  up 
some  of  the  shadow  of  mystery.  But  the  situation 
was  rendered  no  more  pleasant  for  us. 

u  Then  you  are  not  sailing  for  New  Orleans?  " 
"  Not  until  my  hold  is  empty.     We  cleared  from 
there,  light,  three  weeks  ago." 

"  You  mean  to  retain  the  lady  on  board?  " 
"  Unless  she  prefers  to  jump  overboard." 
"And  what  have  I  to  do  with  all  this?     You  said 
you  had  use  for  me  —  what  use?  " 


234 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

I   JOIN  THE   SEA   GULL 

I  CAN  see  the  fellow  still,  as  he  sat  there  smiling, 
his  teeth  revealed  under  his  mustache,  his  eyes 
filled  with  cunning. 

"  You !  why  you  chance  to  be  the  very  sort  of  man 
I  need.  The  devil  could  not  have  sent  me  a  better," 
he  said,  with  some  enthusiasm.  "  You  are  an  Ameri- 
can soldier,  the  best-drilled  men  in  the  world  for  ir- 
regular service.  You  can  understand  that  the  longer  I 
can  keep  those  fellows  down  there  fighting,  the  more 
I  will  sell.  Good!  that  is  part  of  my  business.  And 
the  better  they  are  drilled,  the  longer  they  will  keep 
it  up.  That  is  what  I  want  you  for  —  to  help  make 
that  mob  of  rags  into  an  army.  By  God!  you  can  do 
it,  and  I  am  willing  to  pay  the  price." 

I  got  up,  and  walked  across  the  cabin,  apparently 
struggling  with  temptation,  arguing  the  matter  over 
with  myself.  In  very  truth,  however,  there  was  little 
choice.  Either  I  must  coincide  with  his  desire,  or  be 
thrust  helplessly  back  into  my  old  quarters,  under  guard. 

235 


GORDON  CRAIG 

There  was  no  mercy,  no  weakness,  behind  the  smile 
with  which  he  watched  me.  The  man  was  a  tiger  who 
would  kill  me  with  as  little  remorse  as  he  would  brush 
a  mosquito  from  his  cheek.  If  I  yielded,  if  I  exhib- 
ited a  willingness  to  fit  into  his  plans,  well  and  good. 
But  if  I  decided  otherwise  the  jaws  of  the  trap  would 
close.  I  did  not  care  so  much  for  myself  —  it  would 
be  a  pleasure  to  defy  him  —  but  the  memory  of  the 
girl  was  vivid.  What  would  happen  to  her,  alone  on 
this  lawless  ship,  surrounded  by  the  gang  of  wolves 
with  which  it  was  manned?  The  thought  sickened  me. 
Even  already  I  had  imagined  a  gleam  of  lust  in  the 
eyes  of  the  fellow  when  he  glanced  covertly  at  her, 
and  distrusted  him  as  I  would  a  snake.  And  he  was 
owner  and  captain,  his  word  on  board  the  supreme  law, 
even  unto  death.  There  was  nothing  left  me  but  to 
agree  to  his  proposition,  and  thus  purchase  freedom. 
Yet  I  must  not  appear  too  eager. 

"  I  perceive  your  point,"  I  said  at  last,  facing  him. 
"  But  what  is  there  in  it  for  me?  " 

"  A  good  round  sum,"  he  replied.  "  More  than 
you  ever  made  before,  I  warrant,  not  excepting  the 
promises  made  you  in  this  Henley  will  case.  We  '11 
talk  the  details  over  later." 

'*  Who  is  responsible  for  my  pay?  " 

236 


I  JOIN  THE  SEA  GULL 

"  See  here,  Craig,  the  case  stands  like  this.  The 
revolutionists  down  there  asked  me  to  find  them  a  com- 
petent drill-master,  and  they  will  pay  royally.  They  Ve 
got  the  money,  too,  scads  of  it.  There  will  be  no 
trouble  on  that  score.  Besides,  I  need  a  reliable  man 
ashore  to  look  after  shipments.  We  have  to  land  our 
goods  in  a  hurry,  you  understand,  at  night,  without 
checking  up.  I  can  afford  to  hand  you  something 
pretty  nice  on  the  side  to  assure  myself  a  square  deal.  I 
had  a  fellow  picked  out  for  the  berth  —  a  retired  Ger- 
man officer  —  but  he  failed  to  show  up  when  we  sailed. 
Now  I  have  run  across  you  I  am  damned  glad  he  did. 
You  are  more  the  style  of  man  I  want.  Come,  now,  I 
don't  believe  you  can  afford  to  turn  this  offer  down." 

"  It  looks  good,"  I  confessed,  but  still  hesitating. 
"  Only  I  shall  have  to  have  it  in  writing,  and  more  in 
detail." 

"We'll  talk  that  over  in  the  morning;  it's  late 
now.  Take  the  third  stateroom  starboard;  it's  all 
ready  for  you." 

'  Then  I  am  no  longer  to  consider  myself  a  prisoner 
on  board?  " 

"  Certainly  not.     Practically  you  are  one  of  us." 
"  And  I  have  the  freedom  of  the  deck?  " 
He  smiled  grimly,  gazing  intently  at  me. 

237 


GORDON  CRAIG 

'  That  is  safe  enough,  I  reckon,  even  if  I  ques- 
tioned your  interest  in  this  adventure.  There  must  be 
ten  miles  of  water  already  between  us  and  the  coast. 
There  are  no  limits  on  your  liberty,  but  I  would  n't  ad- 
vise your  going  forward  at  present  —  not  until  the  men 
understand  the  situation  —  they  're  a  hard  lot." 

"  Revolutionists?  " 

"  Hell,  no;  plain  New  Orleans  wharf  rats,  the  scour- 
ing of  the  Seven  Seas." 

"  Who  is  first  mate  —  the  German?  " 

'Yes,  Herman,  a  fine  sailor;  was  with  the  Ham- 
burg people  until  he  had  a  wreck.  The  Creole  Brous- 
sard  is  second,  and  the  two  of  them  together  could 
tame  a  cargo  of  wild-cats.  Is  that  all,  Craig?  " 

"  All  at  present." 

"  Good  night  then;  think  this  over,  and  we  '11  have 
another  talk  tomorrow.  The  third  starboard  state- 
room is  yours." 

I  took  his  hand,  feeling  the  sinewy  grip  of  his  lean, 
brown  fingers,  and  turned  to  the  door,  cursing  myself 
under  my  breath  for  a  weakling,  and  yet  utterly  un- 
able to  perceive  how  I  could  choose  otherwise.  The 
single  lamp  in  the  main  cabin  was  turned  low,  only 
faintly  illuminating  the  interior.  In  the  quiet  I  could 
feel  the  movement  of  the  vessel,  and  realized  there  was 

238 


I  JOIN  THE  SEA  GULL 

some  sea  on,  although  the  engines  were  being  oper- 
ated only  at  half  speed.  This  seemed  odd,  if  speed 
was  desirable,  as  I  supposed  it  must  be  on  a  voyage 
of  this  nature.  However  that  was  none  of  my  affair, 
and,  heaven  knows,  I  had  enough  to  consider  in  my 
own  situation.  I  was  not  in  the  least  sleepy,  and  sank 
down  in  the  first  chair  to  think,  my  eyes  on  the  Cap- 
tain's door.  But  I  was  not  disturbed.  If  this  was 
my  case  exclusively  I  doubt  if  it  would  have  greatly 
worried  me.  Indeed,  I  might  have  rejoiced  over  the 
outlook,  welcoming  the  excitement,  and  rough  expe- 
rience promised  in  a  new  land.  I  possessed  the  adven- 
turous spirit,  and  the  position  offered  had  its  appeal. 
But  the  girl  stood  directly  in  the  way.  What  Henley 
meant  to  do  with  her  was  problematical  —  I  had  not 
thought  to  ask  —  but  he  either  intended  putting  her 
ashore  in  Honduras,  or  else  holding  her  prisoner  on 
board  until  the  Sea  Gull  returned  North.  Either  con- 
tingency was  bad  enough,  and  the  suspicion  flashed  sud- 
denly across  me  that  the  final  decision  would  depend 
on  how  kindly  she  might  receive  the  attentions  of  the 
Captain.  Nor  did  I  question  the  result.  I  had  not 
known  the  lady  long,  but,  in  that  brief  time,  our  rela- 
tions had  been  sufficiently  intimate  to  yield  me  a  good 
insight  into  her  womanly  character.  There  would  be 

239 


GORDON  CRAIG 

no  yielding,  no  compromise.  Neither  threats  nor 
promises  would  change  her  attitude  in  the  least.  Not 
only  did  she  know  the  fellow  to  be  a  lying  knave,  but 
he  was  not  of  the  sort  to  ever  influence  her  in  the 
slightest  degree.  I  could  imagine  how  she  would  look 
at  him,  with  those  searching  eyes  burning  in  indigna- 
tion, and  her  instant  squelching  of  his  first  protestations. 
There  would  be  no  need  of  my  help  to  repel  the  in- 
sults of  such  a  beast.  But  afterwards  there  would, 
for  I  realized  also  what  he  would  become  after  such 
a  repulse  —  a  cold,  sneering  Nemesis,  revengeful,  ready 
to  crush  even  a  woman  remorselessly.  And  he  pos- 
sessed the  power,  the  means  to  make  that  revenge  com- 
plete. I  felt  my  teeth  lock,  my  hands  clinch  in  sudden 
anger.  Perhaps  I  could  accomplish  little  in  her  de- 
fense, but  I  intended  to  be  free  to  do  that  little.  What- 
ever fate  might  be  in  store  for  us,  that  sneering,  olive- 
hued  devil  should  receive  his  deserts  if  ever  he  at- 
tempted wrong  to  her.  That  had  become  the  one  pur- 
pose of  my  heart,  for  I  realized  here  skulked  the  real 
danger,  the  deeper  peril  of  our  situation. 

I  may  have  remained  there  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
motionless,  thinking  over  every  incident,  and  review- 
ing carefully,  and  in  detail,  the  various  happenings 
which  had  led  to  our  present  condition.  The  only  re- 

240 


I  JOIN  THE  SEA  GULL 

suit  was  to  enlist  me  yet  more  strongly  to  her  service. 
Believing  her  statement  I  could  see  nothing  in  her  con- 
duct to  criticize,  and  she  appealed  to  me  in  all  woman- 
hood. I  would  be  a  dastard  to  doubt,  or  desert,  her 
cause  now,  and  the  warm  blood  throbbed  in  my  veins 
responsive  to  the  memory  of  what  had  already  been  be- 
tween us.  No  one  disturbed  me,  the  Captain  was  still 
in  his  stateroom,  where,  once  or  twice,  I  imagined  I 
heard  him  pacing  the  floor.  The  steward  had  appar- 
ently retired  for  the  night,  although  it  was  not  late, 
as  a  glance  at  my  watch  proved.  My  eyes  traced  the 
doors  on  either  side,  ten  altogether,  each  plainly  num- 
bered, and  I  opened  the  one  assigned  to  me,  and  glanced 
within.  Except  that  it  was  more  commodious,  and  con- 
tained a  washstand  at  one  corner,  it  did  not  differ 
greatly  from  the  other  forward  where  I  had  been  held 
prisoner. 

I  wondered  which  of  these  others  might  be  hers,  and 
passed  silently  from  door  to  door,  vaguely  hoping  for 
some  sign  of  guidance.  They  were  all  tightly  closed, 
and  I  dare  not  try  the  locks,  as  I  was  certain  one, 
at  least,  of  the  under  officers  would  be  sleeping  below. 
My  round  had  brought  me  to  the  second  door  on  the 
port  side  when,  in  the  dim  light,  I  perceived  something 
lying  at  my  feet,  and  stooped  down  to  better  determine 
16  241 


GORDON  CRAIG 

its  character.  It  was  the  end  of  a  very  narrow  light 
blue  ribbon,  apparently  caught  beneath  the  door.  As- 
sured that  she  was  the  only  one  of  her  sex  aboard,  I 
drew  the  strip  forth,  fondled  it,  imagined  I  had  seen  it 
before,  struggling  with  a  desire  to  make  myself  known. 
The  door  before  which  I  hesitated  was  numbered  "  5." 
Whether  by  accident,  or  design,  she  had  left  the  one 
clew  I  most  needed.  Indeed,  at  the  moment,  I  be- 
lieved the  ribbon  had  been  purposely  dropped.  That 
last  meeting  of  our  eyes  had  reassured  her  of  my 
loyalty;  with  the  quick  intuition  of  a  woman  she  had 
comprehended  the  truth,  and  this  ribbon,  apparently 
carelessly  dropped,  was  for  my  guidance.  I  thrust  it 
into  my  pocket,  but  the  soft  touch  of  the  silk  seemed 
to  bring  back  to  me  a  sense  of  caution.  I  knew  the 
door  was  locked,  and  assured  myself  there  was  no  space 
beneath.  If  I  was  to  communicate  with  her,  other 
means  must  be  employed.  What?  This  was  the  sec- 
ond stateroom  on  the  port  side.  Judging  from  my 
own,  the  width  of  each  room  would  be  about  six  feet. 
There  ought  to  be  no  difficulty  in  locating  her  port- 
hole from  the  deck  above,  nor  in  attracting  her  atten- 
tion. 

The  one  thing  I  desired  now  was  to  reestablish  my- 
self fully  in  her  confidence,  assure  her  I  was  at  liberty 

242 


I  JOIN  THE  SEA  GULL 

on  board,  able  and  willing  to  be  of  service.  This  ne- 
cessity overshadowed  all  else.  If  I  could  discover 
means  of  communication  we  could  plan  hopefully,  as- 
sured of  cooperation.  And  this  seemed  possible,  the 
way  to  its  accomplishment  open.  Shadowed  from  ob- 
servation by  the  thick  butt  of  the  after-mast,  I  wrote 
a  few  lines  hastily  on  the  back  of  an  envelope,  thrust 
it  into  my  pocket,  and  ventured  up  the  companion  stairs. 
Reaching  the  top,  and  stealing  to  one  side  out  of 
the  dim  range  light,  I  took  hasty  survey  of  the  deck. 
It  was  a  dark  night,  although  a  few  stars  were  visible, 
and  the  Sea  Gull  was  steaming  slowly  through  a  fairly 
rough  sea,  pounding  against  her  port  quarter.  Little 
twinkles  of  light  were  visible  off  the  port  side,  so  numer- 
ous as  to  make  me  suspicion  land,  while  a  narrow  strip 
of  moon,  barely  exposed  beneath  an  edge  of  cloud,  con- 
vinced me  our  course  was  almost  directly  east.  This 
was  strange  if  the  boat's  destination  was  Spanish  Hon- 
duras, and  the  Captain  was,  as  he  contended,  desirous 
of  making  a  swift  passage.  I  recall  this  flash  of 
thought,  yet  my  attention  almost  instantly  reverted  else- 
where. The  closer  we  hugged  the  shore  the  greater 
the  opportunity  for  escape,  the  more  vital  the  necessity 
of  immediately  establishing  communication  with  the  fair 
prisoner  below. 

243 


GORDON  CRAIG 

A  glance  sufficed  to  convince  that  I  was  alone,  and 
unobserved.  The  deck  was  unobstructed  aft,  except 
for  a  small  boat  swung  to  davits  astern,  and  the  cabin 
transoms.  These  last  were  elevated  some  three  feet, 
but  considerable  space  separated  from  the  rail.  I 
slipped  into  this  opening  on  the  port  side,  crouching  in 
the  dense  shadow,  until  again  assured  I  was  alone. 
My  position  afforded  as  good  a  view  forward  as  the 
darkness  would  permit,  and  likewise  enabled  me  to  see 
into  the  dimly  lit  cabin  below.  The  fact  that  Henley 
—  for  whatever  his  name  might  be,  this  was  the  one 
to  which  he  laid  claim  —  had  not  left  his  stateroom, 
or  made  any  effort  to  observe  my  movements,  was  a 
decided  encouragement.  Beyond  all  question  he  be- 
lieved me  safely  in  his  grasp,  and  his  promise  of  lib- 
erty on  board  was  being  substantiated.  I  was  not  to  be 
watched,  or  spied  upon.  For  the  first  time  I  began  to 
feel  a  true  sense  of  freedom. 

The  deck  forward  of  the  main  mast  was  too  dark 
for  observation,  although  I  was  certain  of  a  group  of 
men  gathered  in  the  waist  to  leeward.  Occasionally 
the  sound  of  a  voice  was  blown  back,  and  I  could  per- 
ceive the  dull,  red  glow  of  a  pipe  or  two.  The  main 
body  of  the  watch  these  would  be,  and  even  as  I  stared 
at  the  lumping  shadow,  a  command  was  roared  from 

244 


I  JOIN  THE  SEA  GULL 

the  bridge,  and  two  shapeless  figures  detached  them- 
selves from  the  mass,  and  ran  forward.  The  bridge 
itself  was  partially  outlined  against  the  lighter  sky, 
giving  me  a  vague  glimpse  of  two  figures,  one  standing 
motionless,  as  though  gripping  the  rail,  and  peering 
straight  ahead  into  the  smother,  the  other  striding  back 
and  forth.  The  last  appeared  a  huge  shadow,  his  coat 
flapping  in  the  wind,  and  I  knew  he  must  be  the  Ger- 
man first  mate,  Herman. 

Satisfied  on  these  points,  and  with  a  glance  below 
at  the  unoccupied  cabin,  I  stepped  back  and  paced  off 
the  distance,  until  convinced  that  I  had  safely  located 
where  the  porthole  of  number  "  5  "  should  be.  I 
leaned  over,  seeking  to  trace  its  outline  by  some  reflec- 
tion of  light  from  within,  but  the  receding  side  of 
the  vessel  baffled  me.  Yet,  assured  that  I  must  be  cor- 
rect in  my  measurements,  I  marked  the  spot  on  the  rail, 
and  began  search  for  some  means  by  which  I  could  open 
communication  with  the  girl  below. 


245 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE    FREEDOM    OF    THE    DECK 

THE  flag  locker  was  astern,  and  standing  on  it  I 
could  feel  inside  the  boat  swung  to  the  davits. 
It  was  a  small,  light  boat,  fashioned  like  a  cutter,  a 
good  sea-going  craft  for  its  size.  Two  oars  and  a 
short  mast  together  with  a  roll  of  canvas  were  stowed 
on  top  the  thwarts,  and  secured  by  lashings.  I  cut 
one  of  these,  and  drew  forth  about  three  fathoms  of 
line,  sufficiently  pliable  for  my  purpose.  The  severed 
end  of  cord  I  thrust  down  out  of  sight,  where  it  would 
escape  any  superficial  examination.  Anxious  as  I  was 
to  carry  out  my  plans  rapidly  I  could  not  refrain  from 
passing  my  hands  over  the  boat,  impressed  by  its 
lightness  and  sea-going  qualities,  and  inspired  by  the 
thought  it  might  eventually  aid  in  our  escape.  It  hung 
ready  for  launching,  the  falls  easily  unhooked,  and  two 
pair  of  hands  would  be  sufficient  to  lower  it  into  the 
water.  There  was  a  locker  forward  I  was  unable  to 
reach,  but  two  water  kegs,  filled,  were  strapped  under 
the  stern  sheets,  leading  me  to  believe  the  craft  was 

246 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  THE  DECK 

fully  equipped  for  immediate  service.  My  mind  filled 
with  a  daring  hope  by  this  discovery,  I  fastened  the 
note  to  the  end  of  the  cord,  weighted  it  with  a  bunch 
of  keys,  and  crept  back  to  where  I  had  marked  the 
rail.  Inch  by  inch  I  payed  out  the  line,  leaning  well 
over.  At  last  my  ears  detected  the  dangling  of  the 
metallic  keys  against  glass,  and,  by  manipulating  the 
rope,  managed  to  make  them  sound  with  clear  insist- 
ence. I  repeated  the  effort  several  times  before  there 
was  any  response.  Then  the  port  seemed  to  be  opened 
cautiously,  although  no  gleam  of  light  shot  forth.  She 
had  evidently  extinguished  her  lamp  before  venturing 
to  answer  the  signal,  but  I  felt  her  grasp  on  the  cord. 
Then  it  was  left  dangling  against  the  closed  port,  leav- 
ing me  to  infer  that  she  was  reading  the  hasty  note. 

I  must  have  hung  there  gazing  down  into  the  black 
shadows  for  two  or  three  minutes,  before  my  line  was 
again  hauled  taut,  but,  as  I  straightened  up,  prepared 
to  haul  up  the  returning  message,  I  saw  the  shadow  of 
a  man  passing  across  the  cabin  below.  He  was  already 
at  the  foot  of  the  companion  stairs;  in  another  minute 
would  be  on  deck.  There  was  no  time  to  do  other- 
wise, and  I  released  my  grasp  of  the  rope,  letting  it 
drop  silently  into  the  water.  I  had  barely  turned  my 
back  to  the  rail  when  Henley  emerged  within  six  feet 

247 


GORDON  CRAIG 

of  me.  For  an  instant  his  gaze  was  forward,  and  then, 
as  his  eyes  accustomed  themselves  to  the  darkness,  he 
turned  slightly  and  perceived  me,  peering  at  me  in  un- 
certainty. 

"Who  is  this?  Oh,  you,  Craig,"  he  questioned 
sharply.  "  Not  asleep  yet?  " 

"  Not  even  drowsy,"  I  said,  pretending  an  ease  I 
was  far  from  feeling.  "  The  crack  on  my  head  yes- 
terday pains  considerable,  and  besides  I  wanted  to  think 
over  your  proposition  a  bit." 

"  You  must  have  the  skull  of  an  elephant,  or  a  negro, 
to  have  any  head  at  all,"  he  agreed,  apparently  satis- 
fied. "  But  I  would  advise  sleep  nevertheless.  You 
think  favorably  of  my  plan,  I  hope." 

"  I  see  no  reason  to  refuse,  if  the  pay  is  all  right." 

"It  will  be;  trust  me  for  that.  A  beautiful  night 
this  —  the  air  as  soft  as  June.  I  was  abou1  to  turn 
in,  but  decided  to  take  a  whiff  on  deck  first." 

"  Rather  a  captain's  duty,  is  it  not?  " 

"  I  believe  so,  in  regular  service,  but  this  is  decid- 
edly irregular.  The  fact  is,  that  while  I  am  the  owner 
of  this  vessel,  and  technically  in  command,  I  am  no 
navigator.  I  merely  give  my  general  orders,  and  trust 
the  seamanship  to  Herman.  He  is  perfectly  trust- 
worthy and  capable,  and  I  never  interfere.  The  last 

248 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  THE  DECK 

voyage  I  doubt  if  I  was  on  deck  twice,  although,  of 
course,"  he  added  soberly,  "  my  word  goes  if  I  should 
care  to  exercise  authority." 

I  remained  silent,  staring  out  across  the  water,  en- 
deavoring to  reconcile  his  statements,  and  wondering 
what  message  it  was  I  had  dropped  into  the  deep. 

"What  are  those  lights  off  yonder?"  I  asked,  at 
length,  pointing. 

"  Shore  lights." 

;'  Then  we  are  steering  east?  " 

"  A  bit  south  of  east,  yes;  odd  course  for  Honduras, 
you  think?  " 

I  nodded,  willing  enough  to  let  him  talk. 

"  We  are  playing  the  game  safe,  Craig;  that 's  all," 
he  explained,  both  r  mds  gripping  the  rail.  "  You  see 
we  cleared  for  Santi  30,  and  are  not  anxious  to  be  seen 
and  reported  by  any  west-bound  ships.  We  are  keep- 
ing well  to  ths  north  of  their  course  now,  and  tomor- 
row will  be  hidden  among  the  islands  off  the  west 
Florida  coast.  Then,  as  soon  as  it  is  dark,  we  will 
shoot  out  under  full  steam,  into  the  Gulf.  The  chances 
are  we  '11  cross  the  lane  unobserved;  if  we  should  in- 
tercept a  liner,  she  won't  identify  us  in  the  dark,  as 
we  burn  no  lights.  By  daylight  we  '11  be  well  beyond 
their  look-outs,  and  can  steer  a  straight  course." 

249 


GORDON  CRAIG 

Vague  as  my  memory  was  regarding  the  Gulf  and 
its  surrounding  coast  line,  this  explanation  seemed  rea- 
sonable enough,  and  I  remained  silent,  gazing  off 
across  the  water.  He  did  not  speak  again,  yet  the  very 
proximity  of  the  man  irritated  me,  my  dislike  and  dis- 
trust of  him  so  deep  rooted  that  I  could  scarcely  bear 
his  near  presence.  I  wanted  to  be  alone,  where  I 
could  think  out  some  feasible  scheme  of  escape. 

"  I  have  had  enough  for  tonight,"  I  said  finally, 
"  and  am  going  to  turn  in." 

"  Best  thing  you  can  do,"  he  coincided,  but  without 
looking  toward  me.  "  Will  follow  suit  as  soon  as  I 
smoke  a  cigarette.  See  you  tomorrow." 

I  went  down  the  companion  stairs  directly  to  my 
stateroom,  not  even  glancing  aside,  feeling  confident 
that  he  would  be  watching  me  from  above.  I  had 
every  reason  to  believe  I  had  won  his  confidence,  that 
he  counted  me  as  already  among  those  he  controlled 
and  commanded,  yet  he  was  not  a  man  who  would  ever 
rise  above  suspicion,  and  his  trust  would  always  be 
limited.  Without  lighting  a  lamp  I  lay  down,  still  par- 
tially dressed,  on  my  bunk,  my  mind  busily  occupied 
with  desperate  plans,  none  of  them  satisfactory.  We 
would  not  be  far  from  land,  according  to  his  state- 
ment, until  late  the  following  night.  The  small  boat 

250 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  THE  DECK 

hanging  astern  was  fully  capable  of  transporting  the 
two  of  us  safely,  and  I  was  sufficiently  acquainted  with 
such  a  craft  to  feel  no  doubt  of  my  ability  to  navigate 
it  if  once  afloat.  But  unless  Mrs.  Henley  was  also 
given  her  freedom  on  board,  I  could  perceive  no  means 
of  reaching  her.  With  her  stateroom  key  hidden  in 
the  Captain's  pocket,  any  plan  I  might  formulate  was 
useless.  Nor  was  it  at  all  probable  she  would  be  re- 
leased until  we  were  well  at  sea.  Baffled  by  these  con- 
ditions I  tossed  and  turned  for  an  hour,  hearing  Hen- 
ley return  to  his  cabin,  and  marking  a  swifter  pulsa- 
tion of  the  engines.  Finally  worn  out  mentally,  as  well 
as  physically,  I  fell  asleep. 

When  I  awoke  the  sun  was  shining  through  the  glass 
of  my  porthole,  and  glancing  forth  I  caught  the  dazzle 
of  the  water.  The  vessel  was  motionless,  apparently 
riding  at  anchor,  the  sea  barely  rippled  by  a  gentle 
breeze.  Refreshed  by  sleep  and  more  eager  than  ever 
to  be  in  action,  I  dressed  hurriedly,  and  stepped  forth 
into  the  cabin.  The  breakfast  table  was  set  for  one, 
and  the  black  steward  was  lolling  lazily  in  a  chair.  At 
sight  of  me  he  got  to  his  feet. 

"  Ah  suah  thought  you  was  n't  nebber  goin'  ter  wake 
up,  sah,"  he  said  genially,  showing  his  teeth.  "  Ah  bin 
waitin'  fer  yer  mor'n  two  hours,  Ah  reckon." 

251 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  For  me  I     Have  the  others  eaten  then  ?  " 

"  Mostly,  sah,  mostly.  De  Captain  he  nebber  eat 
no  breakfast;  he  say  et  ain't  good  fer  his  libber  —  yaw; 
yaw !  —  but  de  mates  dey  both  bin  down." 

"What  time  is  it?" 

"  Most  ten,  sah." 

"  I  did  sleep,  that 's  a  fact,  Louis.  However,  I  '11 
try  and  do  full  justice  to  anything  you  got,"  and  I 
seated  myself  at  the  table.  "  Has  Mrs.  Henley  break- 
fasted yet?  " 

"Who,  sah?" 

'  The  lady  you  have  on  board." 

He  scratched  the  wool  on  his  head  vigorously,  glanc- 
ing behind  the  mast  as  though  uncertain  what  he  had 
best  answer. 

"Ah  suah  nebber  know 'd  dat  wus  her  name,  sah; 
no  sah,  Ah  nebber  done  suspected  it.  Yes,  sah,  she 
had  her  breakfast,  but,  Ah  reckon  she  did  n't  eat  much." 

"  You  served  her  here  at  the  table?  " 

The  negro,  apparently  anxious  to  escape  from  the 
topic,  shook  his  head. 

"  No,  sah;  in  her  room,  sah,"  his  voice  low.  "  De 
Captain,  he  unlock  de  'doah,  an'  then  lock  it  agin. 
He  say  she  done  gone  crazy,  but  Lor'  she  don't  look 
dat-a-way  to  me.  You  like  sugah  in  your  coffee,  sah?  " 

252 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  THE  DECK 

In  spite  of  the  seeming  geniality  of  the  steward,  and 
his  eagerness  now  to  question  me,  I  realized  that  he 
was  thoroughly  dominated  by  personal  fear  of  the  man 
aft.  The  less  I  questioned  him  the  better,  probably, 
as  there  was  a  strong  possibility  that  he  would  be  in- 
terviewed later  relative  to  our  conversation.  Henley 
was  only  testing  me,  and  would  use  the  darky,  if  he 
could,  to  learn  more  of  my  plans.  So,  although,  a 
number  of  questions  trembled  on  my  lips,  I  left  them 
unasked,  and  finished  my  meal  in  silence.  Louis  hov- 
ered around,  dropping  a  sly  hint  now  and  then,  which 
only  served  to  increase  my  suspicion  that  he  might  have 
received  instructions  to  draw  me  out.  If  so,  the  ex- 
periment was  a  failure,  and,  after  a  light  meal,  I  lit 
a  pipe,  and,  ignoring  him  completely,  strolled  out  on 
deck.  There  was  evidently  no  hope  that  the  woman 
would  be  released  at  present,  and  I  could  formulate  no 
plan  of  communicating  with  her,  but  I  was  no  less  anx- 
ious to  view  our  surroundings. 

I  found  the  after-deck  entirely  deserted,  and  there 
was  no  one  visible  on  the  bridge.  Two  or  three  sailors 
—  the  anchor  watch  —  were  forward,  engaged  in  some 
service  about  the  capstan,  and  a  fellow  was  swabbing 
the  deck  amidship.  I  heard  Broussard's  voice  at  a 
distance,  but  could  not  locate  him.  However,  no  one 

253 


GORDON  CRAIG 

paid  the  slightest  attention  to  me,  as  I  stood  smoking, 
and  gazing  curiously  around.  Everything  appeared 
peaceful  enough.  We  were  lying  in  a  small  harbor, 
within  a  hundred  feet  of  the  shore,  completely  con- 
cealed on  the  sea  side,  by  a  thick  forest  growth  lining 
the  higher  ridge  of  what  appeared  a  narrow  island. 
The  Sea  Gull's  fires  were  banked,  only  a  thin  vapor 
arising  from  the  stack  which  instantly  disappeared.  In 
the  opposite  direction  there  was  a  wide  expanse  of 
water,  quiet  as  a  mill-pond  in  spite  of  a  fresh  breeze, 
revealing  in  the  distance  the  faint  blue  blur  of  a  far-off 
coast  line.  Nothing  broke  the  vista  except  the  white 
sails  of  two  sloops,  evidently  fishing  boats,  far  off  on 
the  horizon.  It  was  an  ideal  spot  in  which  to  lie  — 
to  quietly  hide  in  during  the  hours  of  daylight,  prob- 
ably never  approached  but  by  stray  fishermen.  Ashore 
everything  appeared  primitive  and  uninhabited,  except 
for  one  of  the  Sea  Gull's  small  boats  beached  directly 
opposite,  the  crew  hidden  in  the  brush. 

I  walked  leisurely  around  the  cabin  transom,  peer- 
ing into  the  boat  swung  astern,  so  as  to  better  familiar- 
ize myself  with  its  equipment,  meanwhile  keeping  a  wary 
eye  on  the  cabin  below,  where  the  negro  was  clearing 
the  table,  and  then,  satisfied  I  had  everything  photo- 
graphed upon  the  mind,  sauntered  forward  toward  the 

254 


THE  FREEDOM  OF  THE  DECK 

bridge,  aiming  to  exchange  greetings  with  the  Creole 
mate.  Broussard  was  not  a  man  to  expect  favors  from,- 
and  I  had  hated  him  with  the  first  glimpse  of  his  face, 
yet  he  possessed  his  racial  characteristic  of  impulsive 
speech,  and  was  thus  far  more  approachable  than  the 
gruff  German  first  officer.  Perhaps,  if  he  believed  me 
an  accomplice,  he  might  be  led  to  talk,  and  even  be 
induced  to  let  drop  some  hint  which  would  later  prove 
useful.  I  met  him  just  forward  of  the  chart-house, 
and  the  manner  in  which  he  eyed  me  was  immediate 
proof  that  he  remained  uninformed  as  to  my  new  status 
on  board. 

"  How  you  com'  on  ze  deck,  M'sieur?  "  he  asked,  his 
eyes  threatening.  "  By  Gar,  I  thought  you  down  be- 
low, locked  in  all  tight,"  and  he  waved  an  expressive 
hand  aft. 


255 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE   NEW   PERIL 

I  LAUGHED,  but  without  paying  him  the  compli- 
ment of  looking  at  him. 

"  I  Ve  changed  allegiance,  that 's  all,  Broussard. 
It 's  money  which  makes  the  mare  go  with  all  of  us,  eh? 
The  Captain  turned  me  loose  last  night." 

"  You  wif  us?     You  go  volunter?  " 

"  Well,  something  like  that.  I  'm  to  be  drill-mas- 
ter, or  general,  for  those  tattered  battalions  down  in 
the  jungles.  What  do  you  think  of  the  job?  " 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  then  grinned. 

"  What  ze  dif !  "  and  he  swept  his  hands  about  in 
expressive  gesture.  "  Sea  —  land,  if  only  one  gets  the 
price,  M'sieur.  But  for  me  I  like  to  go,  to  move;  not 
lie  still  an'  rot." 

"  Of  course,"  falling  into  his  mood,  "  that 's  in  your 
blood,  I  reckon,  but  the  Captain  said  we  were  only  to 
hide  here  for  a  day." 

"  Maybe  day,  maybe  week.  No  one  knows  how 
long.  We  wait  till  the  sea  is  clear.  Bah!  the  man 

256 


THE  NEW  PERIL 

'fraid  of  shadow.     He  give  me  sheep,   an'   I   show 
heem." 

"You'd  take  a  chance?  " 

"  Oui,  M'sieur.  I  wait  till  dark,  no  more,  den  I 
take  ze  chance.  But  ze  Capitaine,  he  no  sailor, 
M'sieur;  I  know  heem  long  while." 

"How  long?" 

"  Oh,  seek,  eight  year." 

'  Then  you  can  tell  me  if  he  is  really  Judge  Hen- 
ley's son?  " 

"Oui,  M'sieur;  'tis  sure  I  can.  I  hav'  been  with 
heem  there,"  his  brown  hand  outstretched  landward, 
"  where  we  got  you,  hey,  many  the  time;  besides,  the 
Judge  he  been  on  zis  sheep.  Of  course  he  was  son; 
why  you  think  not?  " 

I  shook  my  head,  unwilling  to  discuss  the  affair 
with  the  fellow,  yet  impressed  by  his  statement. 

"  I  am  beginning  to  believe  I  do  not  know  very  much 
about  it,  Broussard,"  I  explained  briefly,  moving  aside 
to  the  rail.  "  I  came  down  South  with  another  story 
pumped  into  me,  that 's  all." 

"  And  ze  young  woman,"  he  persisted,  following  me 
closely,  "  why  she  come?  " 

"  For  the  same  reason  I  did." 

He  laughed,  his  eyes  sparkling. 
17  257 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  More  like  'cause  she  love  you,  hey !  Sacre,  she 
was  fine-lookin'  girl,  but,"  shrugging  his  shoulders, 
"  't  is  the  Capitaine,  not  ze  mate,  who  may  admire." 

I  turned  on  the  fellow,  my  blood  boiling. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that!  That  Henley  will 
dare  intrude  himself?  " 

"Sacre,  an'  why  not,  M'sieur!  He  is  ze  Capi- 
taine; nobody  tell  him  not  on  ze  Sea  Gull.  I  know  him 
seek,  eight  year,  an'  he  devil  with  women.  She  not  ze 
furst  to  be  on  board  ze  sheep.  Zar  no  use  you  be  mad, 
M'sieur;  he  laugh  at  you." 

"  Then  for  once  he  will  laugh  at  the  wrong  man, 
Broussard,"  I  said  soberly.  Regretting  the  threat  even 
as  I  uttered  it,  I  left  him  and  walked  aft,  aware  as  I 
turned  of  the  sneer  on  his  face.  Yet  even  then,  al- 
though burning  with  anger,  I  knew  better  than  to  re- 
main. I  dare  not  speak  the  bitter  words  on  my  tongue, 
feeling  certain  that  whatever  I  said  would  be  repeated 
to  Henley.  I  despised  Broussard,  and  would  have 
taken  the  rat  by  the  throat,  but  for  a  wholesome  fear 
of  his  master.  I  knew  men  well  enough  to  under- 
stand the  character  of  the  Sea  Gull's  Captain.  With 
unlimited  power  in  his  hands  he  was  not  an  antagonist 
to  be  despised.  He  was  a  cruel,  merciless  coward, 
and,  in  spite  of  my  boast,  I  realized  how  helpless  I  was 

258 


THE  NEW  PERIL 

to  oppose  his  will,  here,  in  the  midst  of  men  who  would 
obey  his  slightest  command.  Nor  did  I  doubt  his  pur- 
pose; now  that  he  had  seemingly  won  me  over  to  his 
scheme,  he  would  turn  his  attention  to  her,  feeling  se- 
cure from  interference.  I  had  permitted  him  to  be- 
lieve that  she  was  but  a  chance  acquaintance,  in  whom 
I  felt  little  interest,  and  he  would  consequently  an- 
ticipate no  serious  protest  from  me.  Even  if  I  did 
intervene  he  possessed  the  power  to  render  me  help- 
less. And  he  was  Judge  Henley's  son,  or,  at  least,  so 
these  men  believed  who  had  been  associated  with  him 
for  years.  The  situation  grew  more  and  more  com- 
plicated; it  was  no  longer  merely  her  word  against  his, 
and  yet  I  could  not  doubt  the  truth  of  any  statement 
she  had  made  to  me.  There  was  a  mystery  here  unex- 
plained, involving  the  dead,  and  strangely  complicating 
the  lives  of  the  living. 

I  paced  the  deck  undisturbed,  struggling  vainly  to 
evolve  some  solution.  Broussard  stared  in  my  direc- 
tion for  a  moment,  but  made  no  effort  to  follow,  and 
finally  disappeared  forward.  There  was  nothing  on 
sea  or  land  to  distract  my  attention,  and  I  felt  that  I 
would  be  nearer  to  her  below  in  the  cabin  than  on  deck. 
The  skylight  was  closed,  although  even  then  it  gave 
me  a  partial  view,  and,  as  I  gazed  through  the  clouded 

259 


GORDON  CRAIG 

glass,  I  perceived  a  shadow  pass.  The  next  instant 
the  negro  steward  emerged  from  the  companion.  Some 
swift  impulse  led  me  to  crouch  instantly  out  of  sight, 
until  the  sound  of  his  feet  on  the  deck  convinced  me 
the  fellow  was  going  forward.  I  watched  him  cau- 
tiously; he  stopped  twice  to  glance  back,  but,  per- 
ceiving nothing,  finally  vanished  into  the  forecastle. 
While  I  in  no  way  connected  his  actions  with  myself, 
yet  the  disquieting  thought  as  instantly  occurred  to  me 
that  the  negro's  going  forward  had  left  the  Captain 
and  Viola  Henley  alone  below.  If  the  steward  was 
acting  under  orders  his  being  dispatched  from  the  cabin 
at  this  hour  was  for  a  purpose.  Determined  to  learn 
what  this  purpose  might  be,  I  crept  to  the  door  of  the 
companion,  and  then  down  the  stairs. 

The  main  cabin  was  vacant,  but  the  door  of  num- 
ber 5  stateroom  stood  slightly  ajar.  Assured  I  should 
find  it  empty,  my  heart  already  beating  furiously,  I 
took  a  swift  glance  within.  It  in  no  way  differed  from 
the  room  which  had  been  assigned  me  opposite,  and 
everything  was  in  perfect  order.  Evidently  the  girl 
had  departed  without  a  struggle,  and  with  full  expecta- 
tion of  an  early  return.  Her  small  hand-bag  lay  on 
the  berth  unlatched,  and  a  handkerchief,  together  with 
a  pair  of  gloves,  were  upon  the  chair.  That  she  had 

260 


THE  NEW  PERIL 

not  gone  on  deck  was  a  certainty,  while  the  deserted 
cabin  led  me  irresistibly  to  suspect  the  Captain's  quar- 
ters. He  had  dismissed  the  steward  on  some  excuse, 
opened  her  door,  and,  using  some  pretense,  or  author- 
ity, had  impelled  her  to  accompany  him.  She  had  no 
means  of  resistance  even  if  she  had  suspected  his  pur- 
pose, and  the  probability  was  the  fellow  had  been 
plausible  enough  to  achieve  his  point  without  violence. 
This  was  all  clear  enough  to  my  mind,  but  what  I 
could  do  to  help  her,  to  overcome  him,  was  not  so 
evident.  I  was  alone,  unarmed,  surrounded  by  men 
under  his  command. 

Possibly,  even  now,  I  was  under  surveillance.  The 
negro  had  left  the  cabin,  I  knew,  but  where  was  Her- 
man ?  Broussard  was  in  charge  of  the  deck,  and  hence 
this  would  be  the  first  mate's  watch  below.  Impressed 
with  this  disconcerting  thought,  I  emerged  again  into 
the  main  cabin.  The  stateroom  doors  were  all  closed, 
and  I  had  to  guess  which  was  the  German's.  I  was 
sure,  however,  that  Broussard  occupied  the  first  on  the 
port  side;  I  had  heard  him  open  that  door  while  talking 
to  the  steward,  and  it  was  highly  probable  the  first 
mate  had  the  apartment  opposite.  Judging  from  the 
position  of  the  doors  these  would  be  larger  than  the 
other  staterooms,  and,  if  Herman  was  the  real  naviga- 

261 


GORDON  CRAIG 

tor  of  the  boat,  he  would  require  good  quarters.  I 
listened  at  the  door,  but  heard  nothing;  then,  rendered 
desperate  by  the  delay,  tried  the  knob  cautiously.  The 
door  was  unlocked,  opening  noiselessly.  A  glance  con- 
vinced me  the  room  was  unoccupied,  and  I  stepped  in- 
side, gazing  about  in  surprise.  It  was  nearly  twice  the 
size  of  my  own  apartment,  containing  a  wide  single 
berth,  several  comfortable  upholstered  chairs,  and  a 
large  desk,  on  which  stood  a  sextant,  besides  several 
charts,  one  unrolled.  To  my  left,  close  against  the 
side  of  the  vessel  was  a  narrow  door  standing  ajar,  and 
through  the  opening  I  caught  sight  of  a  porcelain  bath 
tub. 

Instantly  my  mind  leaped  to  a  conclusion  —  the  first 
mate  was  not  on  board;  he  was  ashore  with  the  boat 
party,  and  that  beast  Henley,  was  entirely  alone.  He 
had  taken  advantage  of  the  opportunity.  But  what 
in  God's  name  could  I  do!  If  I  broke  down  the  door 
into  his  cabin,  the  noise  would  be  heard  on  deck,  and 
besides,  the  fellow  was  armed.  The  only  result  of  such 
an  effort  would  be  my  own  imprisonment,  leaving  her 
in  more  helpless  stress  than  before.  Without  know- 
ing why,  I  stepped  around  the  desk,  and  peered  into 
the  bathroom.  It  was  small,  but  perfect  in  arrange- 

262 


ment,  and,  to  my  surprise,  revealed  a  second  door. 
In  an  instant  I  understood  —  this  was  not  Herman's 
private  bath,  but  was  also  used  by  the  Captain;  that 
second  door  led  to  the  after-cabin.  I  was  there  in 
two  strides,  my  ear  at  the  crack  listening.  Nothing 
reached  me  but  the  murmur  of  a  voice,  the  words  in- 
distinguishable, yet  this  was  sufficient  to  convince  me 
that  I  was  on  the  right  trail.  The  two  were  together, 
and  here  was  an  opportunity  for  me  to  reach  them  un- 
observed. Slowly,  using  every  precaution  to  avoid 
noise,  I  turned  the  knob,  and  opened  the  intervening 
door  a  scant  inch.  I  could  hear  the  voice  now  plainly, 
but  my  view  was  blocked  by  a  heavy  curtain.  Breath- 
less, I  drew  a  fold  aside,  and  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
interior. 

Neither  occupant  was  facing  in  my  direction,  and 
both  were  too  deeply  interested  to  observe.  Besides, 
the  possibility  of  intrusion  was  not  in  their  minds. 
Henley  stood  beside  his  desk,  the  same  sneering  smile 
I  had  learned  to  hate,  curling  his  lips,  his  eyes  on  her 
face  in  a  gaze  that  was  insult.  The  girl,  evidently  re- 
treating before  him,  alarmed  by  some  word  he  had 
uttered,  or  by  his  approach,  had  reached  the  door,  and 
grasped  the  knob.  The  expression  on  her  face  told  me 

263 


GORDON  CRAIG 

she  had  discovered  it  locked,  herself  a  prisoner,  and 
that  she  had  turned  in  desperation.  Her  first,  swift, 
unrestraining  speech  gave  me  full  understanding  of 
her  despair. 

'  You  have  trapped  me  here  —  you  —  you  brute," 
she  burst  forth.  "  What  you  said  out  yonder  was  all  a 
lie  to  —  to  get  me  to  come  with  you !  " 

"  Well,  what  of  it?  "  insinuatingly.  "  All  is  fair  in 
love  and  war,  I  have  heard,  and  this  is  either  the  one 
or  the  other.  Why  should  n't  it  be  me,  my  dear,  as 
well  as  the  other  ?  " 

;' What  do  you  mean?  Do  you  connect  me  with 
(Gordon  Craig?  " 

"  Of  course,"  and  he  laughed.  "  Why  should  n't 
I,  please?  You  came  with  him  from  the  North,  did 
you  not  —  traveling  as  his  wife?  Picked  the  fellow 
up  on  the  street,  did  n't  you  ?  My  dear,  this  assump- 
tion of  outraged  virtue  is  all  thrown  away  on  me  —  I 
happen  to  know  your  history." 

She  took  a  deep  breath,  standing  straight  before  him, 
her  cheeks  burning. 

"  Perhaps  you  think  you  do,"  she  said,  now  in  full 
control  of  herself.  "  But  you  are  going  to  learn  your 
mistake.  I  am  here  under  unpleasant  circumstances,  yet, 
I  am  not  subject  to  your  insult.  I  refuse  to  answer  you, 

264 


THE  NEW  PERIL 

or  remain  in  your  presence,"  she  stepped  aside,  leaving 
free  passage.  "  You  will  unlock  that  door." 

"  Hardly  that,"  and  I  could  see  his  fingers  shut  down 
on  the  top  of  the  desk.  "  It  takes  more  than  a  few 
words  to  change  me.  Really,  I  like  you  better  than 
I  did.  You  are  decidedly  pretty  now  you  are  angry. 
Besides,  what  have  I  to  be  afraid  of?  There  is  no  one 
but  us  in  this  part  of  the  ship;  I  fixed  that  up  before 
I  went  after  you;  even  your  friend  Craig  is  mooning 
around  somewhere  on  deck,  dreaming  about  a  fortune. 
If  you  cry  out,  no  one  will  hear  you,  and  if  they  did, 
God  pity  the  man  who  attempted  to  come  in  here.  I  'm 
Captain  of  the  Sea  Gull,  and  there  's  not  a  rapscallion 
on  board  who  would  risk  his  skull  to  help  you.  Even 
Craig  wouldn't;  Lord,  he  even  told  me  himself  you 
were  nothing  to  him." 

"He  — he  told  you  that!" 

"  He  certainly  did,  in  this  room.  Come,  now,  what 
is  the  use  of  being  such  a  cat?  I  'm  not  a  bad  fellow 
if  I  am  treated  half-way  decent.  I  Ve  got  money  to 
spend,  and  know  how  to  spend  it."  He  took  a  step 
forward,  but  she  never  moved. 

"  Don't  touch  me,"  she  said  in  a  tone  that  stopped 
him.  "  I  am  a  woman,  but  I  can  defend  myself." 


265 


CHAPTER  XXV  H 

THE   TABLES   TURNED 

THERE  was  that  about  her  attitude,  and  the  ex- 
pression of  her  face,  which  restrained  the  fellow. 
No  doubt  he  suspected  for  a  moment  that  she  might  be 
armed,  for  his  quick  glance  swept  her  from  head  to  foot. 
Then  his  eyes  hardened. 

"  That  is  the  worst  thing  you  can  do  —  threaten 
me,"  he  said  sharply.  "  I  never  take  that  from  man  or 
woman.  See  here,  do  you  realize  where  you  are?  how 
completely  you  are  in  my  power?  Do  you ?  " 

She  did  not  quail,  or  look  aside;  nor  did  she  answer, 
standing  straight,  her  eyes  on  his  face,  her  bosom  rising 
and  falling  from  swift  breathing. 

"  I  doubt  if  you  do,"  he  went  on,  angered  by  her 
contempt.  "  Well,  think  it  over.  This  is  my  ship, 
and  we  're  at  sea.  I  'm  owner  and  captain,  and  my 
word  on  board  here  is  the  law.  More  than  that,  there 
is  n't  a  man-jack  of  the  crew  aft  of  the  main  mast. 
They  are  forward  on  my  orders,  and  they  '11  stay  there 
until  I  send  for  them.  You  could  scream  your  head 

266 


THE  TABLES  TURNED 

off,  my  beauty,  and  no  one  would  hear  you,  or  dare  in- 
terfere. Now  do  you  perceive  why  it  is  to  your  interest 
to  be  kind  to  me?  " 

"  I  do  not." 

He  laughed,  rendered  ugly  by  her  open  defiance. 

"  Then  I  '11  teach  you.  You  are  not  the  first  of  your 
kind  I  have  tamed,  young  lady.  The  door  is  locked, 
and  you  have  n't  any  weapon ;  don't  try  to  fool  me !  " 

"  I  have  told  you  once,"  she  said  earnestly,  "  not  to 
touch  me." 

He  glanced  about  sneeringly,  yet  impressed  by  her 
manner  of  speaking. 

"  Good  Lord!  do  you  mean  Craig?  A  lot  that  fel- 
low will  help  you.  But  we  Ve  had  enough  of  this. 
Will  you  come  over  here  to  me?  " 

"No!" 

"Then  I'll  take  a  chance;  damn  me,  but  you're 
worth  it !  " 

Neither  one  saw  me,  yet  I  was  across  the  room  be- 
fore he  had  taken  the  two  steps  forward,  and  gripped 
her  arm.  I  saw  her  struggle  to  break  free,  and  then, 
out  of  the  shadow  I  leaped  at  him,  both  hands  seeking 
his  throat  There  was  to  be  no  alarm,  no  shooting,  if 
it  could  be  avoided.  While  it  might  be  true,  as  he  had 
boasted,  that  the  crew  was  forward,  we  could  afford  to 

267 


GORDON  CRAIG 

take  no  chance.  The  very  impetus  of  my  rush  sent 
him  staggering,  and  left  her  helpless  on  the  deck;  yet 
I  got  grip  on  his  collar,  choking  back  the  first  cry,  and 
struck  him  once,  a  half-arm  jolt,  which  would  have  sent 
him  sprawling,  but  for  the  cabin  wall.  Yet  he  rallied 
so  quickly  as  to  overcome  this  advantage.  Judging 
him  from  his  size  I  had  underrated  his  fighting  ability, 
for  he  was  all  muscle,  swift  in  movement  as  a  cat, 
squirming  out  of  my  grasp  before  I  could  close  firmly. 
His  contact  with  the  wall  helped  him  to  keep  his  feet, 
yet,  quick  as  his  recovery  was,  he  failed  to  break  my 
grip,  and  we  struggled  fiercely  for  advantage.  He  rec- 
ognized me,  and  understood  instantly.  He  was  a 
wrestler,  while  I  must  rely  upon  sheer  strength  to  over- 
come his  tricks.  Even  as  he  adventured  first  I  had  him 
pinned  tight,  and  we  strained  back  and  forth  across  the 
cabin  deck,  neither  able  to  throw  the  other,  in  grim, 
relentless  struggle.  My  fingers  were  wrenched  from 
his  throat,  yet  the  fellow  made  no  outcry,  realizing 
doubtless  it  would  not  be  heard.  His  eyes  blazed  with 
hate,  merciless,  vindictive,  and  he  struggled  like  a  fiend 
to  break  free.  I  saw  the  girl,  still  dazed  from  her 
fall,  struggling  to  her  feet,  with  face  uplifted,  then 
my  every  consideration  was  riveted  on  my  antagonist. 
This  was  to  be  no  boy's  play,  no  easy  victory;  his  mus- 

268 


THE  TABLES  TURNED 

cles  were  like  iron,  his  movements  so  quick  and  unex- 
pected as  to  put  me  on  the  defensive.  I  could  only 
hold  tight,  braced  for  the  strain,  yet  forced  back  in  spite 
of  every  effort,  inch  by  inch  across  the  floor,  my  feet 
tangled  in  the  rug.  Neither  could  strike,  nor  kick; 
I  was  weaponless,  and  I  dare  not  release  his  arms  for 
fear  he  might  possess  a  gun.  Once  I  bent  him  back 
until  he  seemed  helpless,  yet,  by  some  trick,  he  wiggled 
free,  and  thrust  me  against  the  desk,  its  corner  goug- 
ing into  my  side.  The  pain  gave  me  superhuman 
strength,  and  I  swung  him  sideways,  the  two  of  us  trip- 
ping over  the  chair,  and  coming  down  heavily  on  the 
deck.  By  some  luck  I  landed  on  top,  and,  before  he 
recovered  from  the  shock,  had  wrenched  one  arm  free, 
locking  my  fingers  in  his  throat. 

He  squirmed  under  me  like  an  eel,  but  could  not 
break  the  grip,  his  face  purpling,  until  he  lost  all  power. 
Fierce  as  the  battle  had  been  I  retained  sufficient  sense 
to  loosen  my  death  grip  while  the  man  still  breathed, 
lifting  my  head  sufficiently  to  glance  about.  My  own 
breath  came  in  sobs,  and  the  perspiratioa  almost  blinded 
me. 

"  Bring  me  something  to  tie  him  with,"  I  said  brok- 
enly. "  Anything;  yes,  that  belt  will  do." 

She  tore  it  from  the  hook  on  the  wall,  and  thrust  it 

269 


GORDON  CRAIG 

into  my  hands.  With  a  single  movement  I  had  it 
buckled  securely  about  his  arms,  and  was  free  to  sit  up, 
and  stare  about.  A  cord  from  the  portiere  curtain 
draping  the  bathroom  entrance  completed  his  lashings. 
With  wicked  eyes  he  stared  up  at  me,  unable  to  move  a 
muscle. 

"By  God,  Craig!"  he  snarled,  "you'll  both  wish 
you  'd  killed  me  before  ye  're  done  with  this  job." 

I  made  no  reply,  using  the  corner  of  the  desk  to  help 
me  get  to  my  feet. 

"  Do  you  hear!  "  he  shouted.  ''  What  chance  have 
you  got  to  get  away?  " 

"  That  is  for  me  to  decide,"  I  answered.  "  But  if 
you  open  your  mouth  again  I  '11  gag  you.  Now  stop 
it;  the  first  word  you  utter  will  mean  a  handkerchief  in 
your  mouth." 

I  stooped  down,  and  dragged  him  to  one  side.  As 
I  straightened  up  again  she  was  facing  me,  her  eyes 
frankly  meeting  mine. 

'  You  —  you  know  how  I  came  here?  "  she  asked, 
as  though  that  was  the  most  important. 

"  Of  course;  I  overheard  most  of  the  conversation." 

"  How  did  you  find  out?  how  did  you  get  here?  " 

'  Your  door  was  left  ajar,  and  I  found  my  way 
through  the  connecting  bathroom  yonder." 

270 


THE  TABLES  TURNED 

"  Then  —  then,  we  can  escape  in  the  same  manner." 
"  I  hardly  think  that  will  be  necessary.  I  'li  go 
through  our  friend's  pockets  for  his  keys."  I  turned 
him  over,  and  began  the  search.  "  Ah,  a  revolver;  I 
thought  probable  —  in  protection  against  a  woman,  you 
cur.  Here  are  keys;  now  let 's  see  what  they  fit." 

The  third  one  tried  unlocked  the  door,  but  even  as 
I  tried  them  in  the  lock,  my  mind  swiftly  reviewed  the 
situation  in  which  this  affair  left  us,  and  leaped  for- 
ward toward  a  possible  solution.  It  must  be  open  war 
from  now  on.  No  pretense  on  my  part  would  ever 
again  win  me  the  confidence  of  the  man  I  had  fought 
and  conquered.  Henceforward  we  could  expect  no 
mercy  on  board.  Yet  how  was  it  possible  to  escape,  or 
avoid  discovery?  To  attempt  leaving  the  Sea  Gull 
before  dark  would  be  suicidal;  no  boat  could  be  lowered 
unseen,  and  even  if  one  reached  the  surface  of  the 
water,  we  would  surely  be  overtaken,  and  brought 
back.  Yet  there  was  a  chance  that  what  had  occurred 
in  this  cabin  could  be  kept  concealed  for  a  few  hours, 
until  darkness  gave  us  better  opportunity  for  success- 
ful action.  The  memory  of  what  Henley  had  said  to 
me  the  evening  before  —  that  he  was  only  technically 
In  command;  that  for  days  at  a  time  he  never  appeared 
on  deck  in  person,  gave  me  the  clew.  If  he  could  be 

271 


GORDON  CRAIG 

kept  absolutely  secure  in  his  cabin,  unable  to  create  any 
alarm,  we  would  be  free  to  plan  our  escape.  There 
were  but  two  points  of  danger  to  be  guarded  against 
—  Herman  and  the  steward.  The  former,  when  he 
returned  from  shore,  might  seek  him  for  final  orders, 
and  the  latter,  if  he  failed  to  appear  in  the  cabin  for 
the  regular  meal,  would  endeavor  to  learn  his  desires. 
I  would  have  to  guard  against  these  contingencies,  and, 
with  the  first  in  mind,  I  stepped  across  to  the  bathroom, 
and  was  gratified  to  learn  that  the  door  leading  into 
the  mate's  stateroom  could  be  locked  on  the  inside. 
With  this  private  approach  barred  I  felt  confident  of 
being  able  to  guard  the  single  entrance  remaining.  I 
met  her  waiting  for  me  as  I  stepped  out  from  behind 
the  curtain. 

"  Well,  what  can  we  do?  " 

"  Keep  the  fellow  tied,  and  wait  for  night,"  I  an- 
swered soberly.  "  That  is  our  only  chance.  The  mate 
is  ashore  —  we  are  lying  in  the  cove  of  a  small  island 
off  the  Florida  coast,  waiting  for  darkness,  and  a  chance 
to  slip  through  into  southern  waters." 

"  Do  you  know  where  this  boat  is  bound?  " 

"  Yes  —  Spanish  Honduras;  we  are  loaded  with  mu- 
nitions of  war,"  I  laughed.  "  I  was  to  be  a  general 
down  there." 

272 


THE  TABLES  TURNED 

"You!" 

"  Yes ;  swift  promotion,  was  n't  it !  Our  friend  yon- 
der promised  the  job ;  all  I  had  to  do  was  to  desert  you, 
and  join  his  outfit." 

11  And  you  consented?  " 

"  With  a  mental  reservation.  It  gained  me  a  few 
hours'  freedom  at  least,  and  surely  has  done  you  no 
harm.  Did  you  doubt  me?  " 

"  Oh,  I  hardly  know.  I  was  so  miserable  locked  up 
alone,  unable  to  even  learn  where  we  were  going,  that  I 
lost  faith  in  everyone.  You  acted  so  strange." 

"  I  had  to  play  my  part.  But  you  received  my 
note?" 

"  Yes,  and  it  helped  me  wonderfully,  although  even 
then  I  scarcely  comprehended  why  all  this  pretense  was 
necessary.  Surely  you  do  not  believe  this  man  is  Philip 
Henley?  that  —  that  I  have  told  you  a  lie?  " 

"  No,  I  do  not,"  I  answered  earnestly.  "  It  is  my 
absolute  confidence  in  you  which  has  held  me  stead- 
fast. He  has  shown  me  evidence  of  his  identity  which 
would  have  convinced  me  under  other  circumstances  — : 
letters  and  pictures;  I  will  show  them  to  you,  for  I 
know  where  they  are  kept  in  the  desk  —  but  in  oppo- 
sition I  had  your  word,  and  I  believed  in  that.  No 

evidence  would  shake  my  faith  in  you,  and  I  am  certain 
is  273 


GORDON  CRAIG 

now  there  is  fraud  here  —  some  devilish  plot  concocted 
to  steal  Judge  Henley's  fortune." 

"  What  letters  ?     What  pictures  were  they  ?  " 

"  Letters  from  the  Judge  to  his  son  —  intimate,  fam- 
ily letters,  and  a  photograph  of  the  father  and  this  man 
taken  together." 

"  And  were  the  letters  addressed  to  Philip?  " 

"  The  envelopes  had  been  destroyed,  and  no  name 
was  mentioned,  but  the  photograph  was  endorsed  in  the 
Judge's  handwriting." 

She  sank  down  on  a  locker,  and  hid  her  face  in  her 
hands.  The  pitiful  dejection  in  her  attitude  compelled 
me  to  bend  over  her  in  quick  sympathy. 

"  Please  do  not  take  it  like  that,"  I  urged.  "  We 
shall  find  a  way  of  escape  if  we  keep  our  courage,  and 
work  together." 

"  Oh,  it  is  not  that,"  and  she  looked  up  into  my  face. 
"  I  am  not  afraid.  Only  I  cannot  bear  the  thought  that 
you  doubt  me  ever  so  little.  I  know  I  have  been  in- 
discreet, that  you  might  justly  deem  me  an  adventuress. 
But  I  am  not,  Gordon  Craig;  I  am  a  good  woman  left 
to  fight  alone,  and  I  must  have  your  faith,  or  break 
down  utterly." 

:<  Why  do  you  suppose  you  have  not?"  I  asked, 
grasping  her  hands  in  complete  forgetfulness.  "  We. 

274 


THE  TABLES  TURNED 

are  together  now  in  open  fight  against  these  villains. 
There  is  no  longer  any  purpose  in  acting  a  lie." 

"It  was  a  lie?" 

"  A  bare-faced  one.  Never  for  an  instant  did  T  in- 
tend deserting  you,  or  becoming  that  man's  tool.'8 

"  And  you  believe  me  —  all  I  have  told  you ;  that  I 
am  really  the  wife  of  Philip  Henley?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  answered  through  clinched  teeth,  struggling 
to  control  myself. 

For  a  moment  she  sat  in  silence,  and,  while  T  dare  not 
look  at  her,  I  knew  her  eyes  were  upon  my  face. 

"  Then  I  will  do  whatever  you  say,  go  wherever  you 
tell  me,"  she  promised  gravely.  "  I  cannot  decide  for 
myself.  I  am  too  confused  to  think  clearly,  but  I  trust 
you  as  a  friend." 

"  Is  —  is  that  all?  "  I  stammered,  unable  to  restrain 
the  words. 

"  All !  What  do  you  mean  ?  is  that  not  enough  ?  "  in 
surprise. 

My  eyes  met  hers,  and  T  cursed  myself  for  a  fool. 

'  Yes  —  I  —  I  meant  nothing,"  I  managed  to  explain 
lamely.  ;<  That  was  a  slip  of  the  tongue.  Please  for- 
get it,  and  keep  faith  in  me." 

I  drew  aside  the  curtain  draping  one  of  the  after 
ports,  and  glanced  out,  eager  for  anything  to  distract 

275 


GORDON  CRAIG 

attention.  Through  the  clear  glass  I  could  see  the 
curve  of  shore-line  forming  the  little  cove.  Just  within 
the  foam  of  the  breakers  a  half  dozen  men  were  launch- 
ing a  small  boat.  I  stared  at  them  an  instant,  before 
realizing  what  it  meant.  Then  I  dropped  the  curtain. 

"  The  mate  is  coming  aboard,"  I  said  swiftly.  "  You 
must  go  to  your  room ;  here  is  the  key ;  lock  yourself  in, 
and  only  open  when  you  hear  my  voice." 

"And  you—  ?" 

"  I  must  take  care  of  myself;  don't  worry  about  me." 

She  hesitated,  yet  the  expression  of  my  face  decided 
her,  and  she  held  out  her  hand. 

"I  —  I  said  I  would  do  whatever  you  told  me  to, 
and  here  I  am  questioning  the  first  thing.  Forgive  me." 

Without  so  much  as  a  glance  at  our  prisoner,  she 
opened  the  door,  and,  with  a  swift  look  about  the 
outer  cabin,  disappeared. 


276 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 
THE  CREOLE'S  STORY 

MY  time  of  preparation  was  brief,  yet  I  already 
had  a  plan  of  operation  outlined.  In  truth, 
there  was  small  choice  left  me.  I  must  keep  Henley 
concealed  and  silent  until  darkness  rendered  our  escape 
possible.  In  order  to  accomplish  this  it  would  be  neces- 
sary to  prevent  either  the  steward  or  the  mate  from 
entering  the  after  cabin.  All  peril  from  the  negro  I 
dismissed  quickly,  confident  that  his  knowledge  of  my 
standing  on  board  would  impel  him  to  accept  any  ex- 
planation I  might  make.  But  with  Herman  the  situa- 
tion was  not  so  clear.  Whether,  or  not,  the  Captain 
had  informed  him  that  I  was  a  volunteer  on  their  law- 
less expedition,  I  did  not  know.  We  had  not  met  since 
coming  aboard,  and,  unless  he  had  received  direct 
orders  regarding  my  status,  any  interference  on  my  part 
would  be  apt  to  arouse  instant  suspicion.  Nor  was  he 
the  kind  to  brook  any  assumed  authority.  I  had  him 
placed  as  a  gruff,  hard-fisted  sea-dog,  who  would  strike 
first,  and  investigate  later  —  one  in  dealing  with  whom 

277 


GORDON  CRAIG 

either  diplomacy  or  force  might  prove  equal  failures. 
Yet  I  possessed  this  advantage  —  I  could  deal  with 
him  alone.  With  but  two  watch  officers  on  board, 
only  one  at  a  time  could  leave  the  deck,  and  Broussard, 
I  felt  assured,  had  no  privileges  in  the  Captain's  cabin. 
From  what  I  knew  of  Henley  I  doubted  if  even  the  first 
officer  felt  privileged  to  invade  the  privacy  of  his  chief 
without  some  special  reason.  There  was  discipline  on 
board,  strict  discipline;  there  had  to  be  to  control  such 
a  crew,  and  it  was  my  impression  Henley  was  the  very 
kind  to  insist  on  every  privilege  of  his  station.  Her- 
man was  of  value  merely  for  his  ability  as  navigator; 
socially,  the  Captain  and  he  had  nothing  in  common. 
It  was  on  this  theory  I  decided  to  work. 

As  I  lifted  the  helpless  Captain  into  his  berth,  his 
eyes  glaring  at  me  in  impotent  rage,  my  ears  could 
distinguish  the  sound  of  oars  as  the  small  boat  rounded 
the  stern  of  the  Sea  Gull.  Much  as  I  despised  the  fel- 
low, I  hated  to  gag  him,  yet  our  safety  depended  on 
his  silence,  and  I  dare  not  neglect  the  precaution.  Even 
as  the  boat  grated  along  the  side,  I  stepped  forth  into 
the  main  cabin,  and  sat  down  to  wait.  To  my  sur- 
prise and  relief,  it  was  Broussard  who  came  down  the 
companion  stairs,  driving  the  steward  before  him. 

'  Vat  for  you  loaf,  hey  1  "  he  snapped  fiercely.     "  By 
278 


THE  CREOLE'S  STORY 

Gar,  I  teach  you.  I  work  four  —  seek  —  hour  an' 
nodding  to  eat.  You  say  ze  Capitaine  send  you;  bah! 
eet  vas  not  so  —  nevaire !  Vat  you  hav'  —  hey?  " 

The  negro  mumbled  something  through  thick  lips, 
and  the  irate  mate  gripped  him  by  the  collar  of  his 
jacket,  shaking  the  fellow  as  he  might  a  dog,  and  hurl- 
ing him  half  across  the  deck. 

"  Sacre !  I  keel  you  for  five  cent  Queek  now  — 
jump !  Put  all  on  right  way,  by  Gar,  or  I  show  you. 
Here  you  —  ze  brandy  furst." 

The  steward  slunk  Into  the  passage  leading  to  the 
pantry,  and  the  Creole,  turning,  saw  me. 

"  Ah,  M'sieur;  I  saw  you  not.  Pardon  ze  roughness, 
but  consider,  no  dinare,  an'  I  been  on  deck  seek  hour; 
no  sleep,  no  eat,  only  work.  I  lose  ze  tempair, 
M'sieur." 

1  That  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,"  I  answered,  affect- 
ing good  humor.  "  Has  the  first  mate  been  ashore?  " 

"  Oui,  M'sieur;  asleep  in  the  sun,  I  bet  you.  Bah! 
any  man  could  watch  the  sea  from  the  cliff.  Dat  job 
not  need  ze  furst  officer.  Sacre !  but  't  is  a  dog's  life 
at  sea." 

I  nodded  my  head,  too  busily  engaged  with  my  own 
thoughts  to  give  much  consideration  to  his  troubles. 
Still,  this  situation,  as  revealed  by  Broussard's  com- 

279 


GORDON  CRAIG 

plaints,  would  afford  us  a  respite  of  at  least  four  hours. 
If  this  was  the  Creole's  watch  below,  then  Herman 
would  keep  the  deck.  Even  lying  there  at  anchor  those 
fellows  would  not  leave  the  crew  alone.  There  was 
too  much  at  stake,  and  besides  there  must  still  remain 
a  look-out  ashore.  However  it  was  a  relief  to  know 
that  the  German  had  nothing  of  importance  to  com- 
municate to  Henley,  no  occasion  even  to  come  below. 
Broussard  sank  back  into  a  chair,  watching  the  fright- 
ened negro  hurry  back  and  forth.  At  last,  satisfied 
that  everything  available  had  been  produced,  the  former 
strode  across  to  the  table,  jerked  out  a  chair,  and  waved 
his  hand  toward  me  in  invitation  to  join  him. 

"The  lazy  dog!  'T  is  likely  all  you  will  get, 
M'sieur.  Maybe  you  eat  with  me  —  hey?  Or  would 
you  wait  for  ze  Capitaine?  " 

"  I  '11  take  pot-lunch  with  you,  Broussard,"  I  agreed 
genially,  speaking  loud  enough  so  the  negro  would  over- 
hear. "  I  Ve  got  to  get  accustomed  to  camp  fare,  and 
am  hungry  enough  to  begin.  Besides,  Captain  Henley 
is  laid  up  in  his  berth  with  a  sick  headache,  and  does  n't 
wish  to  be  disturbed.  He  told  me  to  tell  you,  Louis." 

"  Yes,  sah  1  Shall  Ah  make  you  sum  coffee,  sah  ? 
Massa  Broussard  he  don't  nebber  drink  none." 

"  Yes,  and,  by  the  way,  Louis,  take  a:  lunch  in  to  the 

280 


THE  CREOLE'S  STORY 

lady;  fix  up  something  neat  if  you  can,  and  let  me  know 
when  it  is  ready.  All  right,  Broussard,  a  nip  of  that 
brandy  would  help  me." 

He  passed  the  bottle,  and  a  clean  glass  across  the 
table,  watching  me  pour  out  the  liquor  with  a  sarcastic 
smile. 

"  You  know  ze  Capitaine  before,  maybe?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,"  I  answered,  wondering  what  he  could  be 
aiming  at,  but  willing  to  give  him  a  free  rein.  "  Only 
since  he  tapped  me  on  the  head  back  in  the  cellar. 
However,  he  has  been  square  with  me,  and  seems  to  be 
a  pretty  good  fellow." 

"  You  think  so  —  hey!  Maybe  so  while  he  get  you 
with  heem.  Den  he  ze  devil.  I  know,  M'sieur.  I  see 
heem  for  long  while  on  ze  ocean;  zat  whar*  you  fin' 
out." 

I  began  eating  slowly,  exhibiting  an  indifference  I 
was  far  from  feeling,  yet  swiftly  determining  that  no 
matter  how  much  antagonism  might  exist  between  the 
two  men,  I  would  never  trust  the  Creole.  Still  I  might 
use  him  to  advantage ;  induce  him  to  talk  freely  under 
the  spur. 

"  What  has  he  done  to  you?  "  I  asked  carelessly. 

"By  Gar!  —  what!"  firing  up  at  the  recollection. 
"  Get  out  o'  here,  yer  damn  coon !  "  turning  fiercely 

281 


GORDON  CRAIG 

upon  the  steward,  and  then  leaning  across  the  table, 
lowering  his  voice,  which  yet  trembled  with  passion. 
"  Sacre,  M'sieur,  it  was  I  do  his  dirty  work  five  —  seek 
—  year.  He  no  sailor,  but  I  sail  ze  sheep  for  him  — 
see?  Tree,  four  time  I  sail  ze  sheep,  an'  he  make  ze 
money.  Vat  he  geef  me?  Maybe  one  hundred  ze 
month  —  bah !  eet  was  to  laugh.  Zen  he  fin'  zat  Dutch 
hog,  Herman,  an'  make  of  heem  ze  furst  officer.  He 
tell  eet  all  me  nice,  fine,  an'  I  tink  maybe  eet  all  right. 
You  know  he  promise  beeg  profit  —  hey !  an'  I  get  ze 
monies.  Oui,  it  sound  good.  But  Herman  big  brute; 
he  gif  me  ze  ordaire,  and  I  not  like  eet.  I  tells  ze 
Capitaine,  an'  by  Gar!  he  keep  me  tied  up  before  ze 
port  watch.  You  stan'  zat,  M'sieur?  " 

I  shook  my  head,  uncertain  just  what  stand  to  take. 

"Nevar!"  he  went  on,  barely  pausing  for  breath. 
"  I  show  ze  damn  half-breed;  you  vait,  I  git  heem." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  half-breed,  Broussard?  "  I 
questioned,  surprised. 

He  laughed,  but  not  pleasantly. 

"He  vas  ze  mongrel  —  sure;  you  know  not  zat? 
Sacre,  I  tell  you  zen.  What  you  zink  him,  white  man? 
Pah !  you  see  hees  mother  —  she  mulatto.  Ze  damn 
dog!" 

"  How  do  you  know  that?  " 

282 


THE  CREOLE'S  STORY 

"  How  I  know  I  I  tell  you  I  sail  with  heem  long 
while.  He  nevar  tell,  but  I  fin'  eet  out.  I  listen,  I 
hear  ze  talk,  but  I  say  noddings,  M'sieur.  Vat  I  care 
while  he  treat  me  right?  But  now  I  show  heem  vat  I 
know.  He  not  lord  eet  over  me  ven  ol'  Sallie  vas  his 
mother  —  by  Gar  I  no !  " 

"  Sallie !  You  cannot  mean,  that  mulatto  woman 
back  on  the  plantation?" 

"  Sure,  the  ol'  rip." 

"  Then  his  name  is  not  Henley?  " 

"Why  not,  M'sieur?  The  ol'  Judge  was  his 
father." 

The  whole  thing  came  to  me  in  a  flash,  as  I  stared 
across  at  the  mate,  who  scarcely  realized  yet  the  revela- 
tion made.  He  was  brooding  over  his  wrongs,  and 
how  he  was  to  be  avenged. 

"  Good  God!  "  I  breathed,  "  so  that 's  the  way  of 
it!" 

Broussard  looked  up,  a  cunning  smile  on  his  face. 

"  By  Gar,  I  forget,"  he  said  softly.  "  You  vas  after 
ze  monies  too,  hey!  Bah!  eet  make  no  difference  vat 
you  know.  He  haf  you  here  all  right,  var'  you  keep 
still  or  — "  and  he  drew  the  back  of  a  knife  across  his 
throat.  "I  vonder  he  not  keel  you  furst,  M'sieur; 
maybe  he  use  you,  an'  then,  hav'  you  shot  in  ze  South. 

283 


GORDON  CRAIG 

Oui,  zat  be  ze  easy  vay.     Why  you  ever  cum  down, 
an'  claim  to  be  Philip  Henley  —  hey?  " 

"  That  was  all  a  mistake,"  I  returned  deliberately. 
"  I  came  merely  to  look  after  his  interest?  " 
"  Interest!  Why  a  dead  man  hav'  interest?  " 
"  Do  you  mean  Philip  Henley  is  dead?  " 
"  You  pretend  not  know  ?  By  Gar,  eet  queer.  Veil, 
I  tell  you,  M'sieur.  Ze  hole  back  ov  ze  picture;  I  lie 
there  one  night  an'  leesten,  week,  ten  days  ago.  Ze 
Capitaine  talk  with  Sallie.  He  hav'  letter  from  North 
—  one,  two  sheet  paper  —  an'  eet  tell  heem  how  eet  all 
vas.  Someone  write  heem  —  I  tink  maybe  Pierre  Von- 
ique  who  went  way  long  time.  No  matter;  vat  he  told 
was  zat  M'sieur  Philip  die  —  die  queek  frum  accident. 
Nevah  speak,  an'  when  zey  pick  hee  mup,  zar  was  nod- 
din'  in  hees  pocket.  See,  M'sieur!  He  vas  robbed. 
Vonique  he  hear  about  eet,  an'  fin'  ze  body.  No  one 
know  who  ze  man  is,  but  Vonique  know.  To  prove 
eet  he  send  ze  ring  —  ze  signet  ring  —  off  ze  finger. 
Zen  he  write,  '  Look  out,  someone  has  ze  papers. 
Watch  who  comes.'  Zat  vas  true,  M'sieur." 

I  hung  on  his  words,  fascinated,  never  doubting,  the 
very  thought  of  her  freedom  obscuring  all  else.  It 
was  only  as  he  stopped  speaking,  and  resumed  his  meal, 
that  I  gained  control  of  my  voice.  The  affair  was  clear 

284 


THE  CREOLE'S  STORY 

enough  now,  except  for  some  few  corroborative  details. 

"  And  someone  did  come,  Broussard?  " 

"  Oui,  damn  queek  —  a  fellow  with  a  letter  from 
Philip ;  eet  was  sign  hees  name,  hees  handwrite,  appoint 
heem  overseer." 

"  And  what  became  of  him?  " 

The  Creole  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  'T  is  not  my  business,  M'sieur.  He  go  way  some- 
where queek.  Maybe  he  not  like  ze  place." 

The  dead  face  of  the  bearded  man  in  the  rear  room 
rose  before  me.  But  Broussard  went  on. 

"  Zen  you  came,  M'sieur,  'long  wiz  ze  girl.  Ze 
Capitaine  he  laugh,  eet  was  so  easy.  Why  ze  girl, 
M'sieur?" 

"  Philip  Henley  was  married." 

"  Non,  non,  impossible;  eet  cannot  be  shown.  'T  is 
not  of  ze  record.  Ze  Capitaine  not  'fraid  any  more; 
he  just  play  wiz  you  like  ze  cat  wiz  ze  mouse.  He 
know  Philip  dead;  he  has  ze  proof,  an'  now  he  breaks 
ze  will,  an'  gets  ze  monies.  Ze  damn  dog  rich  now; 
zen  he  be  more  rich." 

"  Do  you  know  an  executor  of  the  will  named  Neale 
-P.  B.  Neale?" 

"  Oui,  M'sieur." 

"  Who  is  he  ?    What  does  he  look  like  ?  " 

285 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  He  vas  a  planter  two  mile  west  Carrollton.  I  see 
heem  maybe  ten  days  ago  —  leetle  short  man  wif  bald 
head." 

He  poured  out  another  drink  of  brandy,  and,  down- 
ing it,  pushed  back  his  chair. 

"  By  Gar,  I  talk  too  mooch,  maybe,"  he  said,  yawn- 
ing. "  But  eet  make  no  dif.  Ze  Capitaine  he  cop  ze 
monies  just  ze  same,  an'  eet  better  you  know.  Now  I 
turn  in  an'  sleep." 

He  crossed  the  cabin  to  his  stateroom,  and  closed  the 
door. 


286 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

UNDER  WAY 

THE  negro  brought  the  girl's  lunch  on  a  tray,  and  I 
took  it  in  to  her,  barely  pausing  long  enough  to 
speak  a  few  encouraging  words,  for  fear  of  some  inter- 
ruption. Then  I  sat  down  and  watched  while  the  rem- 
nants of  our  meal  were  being  removed.  Except  for  an 
occasional  footstep  on  the  deck  above,  and  the  swift 
movements  of  the  steward,  nothing  interrupted  my 
thoughts.  After  Louis  had  carried  the  last  dishes  into 
his  pantry,  and  run  the  table  up  on  its  stanchions,  he 
also  disappeared,  and  in  the  silence  I  could  hear  the 
heavy  breathing  of  the  sleeping  mate.  For  the  first 
time  I  comprehended  clearly  the  entire  situation,  and  I 
could  face  it  with  understanding.  Broussard's  anger 
had  served  me  well,  and  it  never  occurred  to  me  to 
doubt  this  story,  told  under  the  inspiration  of  liquor. 
It  dovetailed  in  with  all  I  previously  knew. 

The  facts  were  clear.  Philip  Henley  was  dead, 
killed  while  intoxicated,  either  accidentally,  or  for  pur- 
poses of  robbery.  And  he  had  been  robbed  when  picked 

287 


GORDON  CRAIG 

up  by  the  police,  nothing  to  identify  him  being  found. 
Beyond  doubt  this  half-breed  brother  had  dispatched  a 
man  North  to  look  him  up  —  possibly  to  assassinate 
him  if  necessary.  The  fellow  had  either  done  the  job, 
or  been  anticipated  in  his  purpose.  In  either  case  he 
was  present  to  identify  the  body,  and  had  written  at 
once,  enclosing  the  signet  ring  as  proof.  That  was 
the  same  ring  we  had  found  in  the  arbor,  and  which 
Viola  had  instantly  recognized.  And  those  men  who 
had  made  a  tool  of  me  were  the  robbers.  They  had 
found  papers  and  letters  which  opened  before  them  this 
scheme  of  fraud;  then,  with  his  residence  address,  us- 
ing his  keys,  they  had  learned  everything  necessary  for 
the  completion  of  their  plans.  A  copy  of  the  Judge's 
will  must  have  been  in  Henley's  possession,  and,  no 
doubt,  some  lawyer's  letter,  describing  the  situation, 
received  since  the  departure  of  his  wife.  Apparently 
everything  two  clever  crooks  needed  to  know  was  in 
their  possession.  All  they  needed  to  do  was  pull  the 
strings,  using  a  figurehead  to  represent  Philip  Henley. 
That  was  the  part  for  which  I  was  chosen.  They  had 
to  construct  a  lie  in  order  to  interest  me,  yet  that  was 
comparatively  easy,  and  there  was  a  strong  probability 
of  success  but  for  peculiar  conditions  of  which  they 
could  know  nothing.  The  half-breed  had  never  been 

288 


UNDER  WAY 

mentioned;  he  was  the  monkey  wrench  thrown  unex- 
pectedly into  their  well-oiled  machine.  Yet,  even  with- 
out him,  the  reappearance  of  Philip  Henley's  wife  was 
sufficient  to  cause  disaster. 

Philip  Henley's  wife!  The  magic  of  the  words 
halted  me.  Then  now,  if  all  I  had  learned  was  true, 
she  was  his  widow.  What  would  that  mean  to  me! 
The  swift  beating  of  my  heart  answered.  As  I  sat 
there  alone,  in  the  silence  I  forgot  everything  save  her, 
and  my  mind  dwelt  upon  every  word  and  look  which 
had  passed  between  us.  These  had  been  innocent 
enough,  and  yet,  to  my  imagination,  stimulated  by  this 
discovery,  formed  the  basis  of  a  dream  of  hope.  I 
knew  this,  that  however  sincerely  she  might  have  once 
supposed  she  loved  Henley,  his  neglect,  cruelty,  dissipa- 
tion, had  long  ago  driven  all  sentiment  from  her.  Be- 
fore we  met,  her  girlhood  affection  had  been  utterly 
crushed  and  destroyed.  Loyal,  she  was,  and  true  to 
every  tradition  of  her  womanhood.  No  audacity,  no 
boldness,  could  penetrate  her  reserve,  or  lower  her 
self-respect.  Before  I  knew  who  she  was,  when  I  had 
every  reason  to  doubt  and  to  question,  I  was  still  re- 
strained by  an  invisible  personality  which  kept  me  help- 
less. It  was  to  guard  his  interest,  not  her  own,  that 
she  had  accompanied  me  on  this  expedition,  risking 
19  289 


GORDON  CRAIG 

her  good  name  in  the  belief  that  he  was  unable  to  care 
for  his  own.  What  would  she  do  now?  how  would 
she  feel  toward  me?  What  change  would  it  make  in 
the  friendly  relationship  between  us?  I  longed  to  tell 
her,  and  yet  shrunk  from  the  task.  She  could  not  fail 
to  know  how  much  I  cared;  careful  as  I  had  been  in 
word  and  action,  yet  a  dozen  times  had  my  eyes  re- 
vealed the  secret.  I  had  seen  her  draw  back  from  me, 
half  afraid,  had  her  restrain  me  by  a  gesture,  or  a  word. 
This  could  be  done  no  longer  —  we  were  free  now,  I 
to  speak,  she  to  listen,  but  I  could  only  guess  the  result. 
Back  behind  the  rare  depth  of  those  eyes  her  heart 
was  hidden,  and  thus  far  I  had  probed  for  its  secret 
in  vain. 

The  sunlight  streaming  in  through  the  upper  transom 
told  me  the  sun  was  dipping  into  the  west.  If  we  were 
to  get  away  when  night  came  there  were  many  things 
to  consider  first;  especially  was  I  obsessed  now  with  a 
desire  to  overhaul  the  Captain's  papers,  and  secure  those 
which  would  be  of  benefit.  We  must  possess  more 
proof  than  the  garrulous  talk  of  the  second  mate,  and 
surely  that  proof  would  be  discovered  in  the  after 
cabin.  The  noise  of  the  steward's  dish-washing  had 
ceased,  and  cautious  investigation  discovered  him  sound 
asleep,  curled  up  like  a  dog,  on  the  deck.  Assured  as 

290 


UNDER  WAY 

to  this,  I  ventured  up  the  companion  stairs,  and  indulged 
in  a  glance  forward.  Except  for  a  group  of  sailors 
doing  some  sail  patching  in  the  shade  of  the  chart- 
house,  no  one  was  visible.  The  vessel  rocked  gently, 
and  far  forward  there  was  a  sound  of  hammering. 
The  mate  would  be  there,  overseeing  the  job  whatever 
it  might  be.  There  was  a  dark  cloud  overshadowing 
the  eastern  horizon,  with  zigzag  flashes  of  lightning 
showing  along  its  edge,  but  the  sea  was  barely  rippled. 
There  was  no  sign  of  any  boat  along  the  beach  of  the 
cove,  and  the  fishermen  had  disappeared,  not  a  glimmer 
of  white  sail  showing  above  the  waters.  Surely  no 
better  opportunity  than  this  could  be  given. 

I  stole  back,  silent  and  unobserved,  listened  an  instant 
to  Broussard's  steady  breathing,  then  unlocked  the 
Captain's  door,  and  entered  his  cabin.  His  wicked 
eyes,  blazing  with  hate,  glared  at  me  as  I  approached, 
and,  inspired  by  some  sudden  feeling  of  sympathy,  I 
bent  over,  and  removed  the  gag  from  his  mouth.  The 
result  was  an  outburst  of  profanity,  bristling  with 
threats,  but  these  as  instantly  ceased  as  I  picked  up  the 
cloth  again. 

"  It 's  just  as  you  please,"  I  said  soberly.  "  Either 
lie  quiet,  or  have  this  back  —  it 's  up  to  you." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  kill  me?  " 

291 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  Not  unless  I  have  to,  but  I  hold  some  things  more 
valuable  than  your  life.  Just  at  present  I  mean  to 
look  over  your  papers." 

He  must  have  realized  I  was  beyond  playing  with, 
and  impervious  to  threats,  for  he  lay  quiet,  but  with 
glaring  eyes  following  my  every  movement,  as  I  threw 
open  the  drawers  of  the  desk,  and  began  handling  their 
contents.  For  some  time  I  discovered  nothing  of  spe- 
cial interest,  only  an  accumulation  of  business  letters, 
manifests  and  old  sea  charts,  showing  that  the  Sea  Gull 
had  been  concerned  in  a  vast  variety  of  enterprises. 
It  was  only  after  I  had  thus  emptied  the  unfastened 
drawers  that  I  came  upon  one  securely  locked.  I  tried 
key  after  key  before  discovering  the  right  one,  realizing 
from  Henley's  squirming  that  I  must  be  drawing  near 
the  goal.  The  first  paper  touched  was  a  copy  of  the 
will,  and  a  little  further  rummaging  put  me  into  posses- 
sion of  various  documents  which,  I  believed  from  a 
cursory  glance  at  their  contents,  were  of  utmost  value. 
These  I  hastily  transferred  to  my  coat  pocket,  making 
sure  I  had  the  original  letter  descriptive  of  Philip  Hen- 
ley's death,  as  well  as  the  copy  of  a  memorandum  which 
the  half-breed  had  evidently  drawn  up  for  the  conven- 
ience of  his  lawyers.  I  ran  through  this  last  swiftly, 
surprised  at  its  frankness,  and  convinced  that  the  at- 

292 


UNDER  WAY 

torneys  employed  must  be  as  great  rascals  as  the  man 
who  commanded  their  services.  Evidently  they  had 
requested  full  particulars  so  as  to  be  prepared  for  any 
emergency. 

I  presume  this  search,  swift  as  I  endeavored  to  con- 
duct it,  occupied  fully  a  half  hour,  every  nerve  strained 
by  fear  of  interruption.  However,  I  could  not  desist 
until  I  had  handled  every  scrap  of  paper,  and  the  re- 
sult well  repaid  the  risk.  Once  I  heard  steps  above 
on  the  deck,  but,  so  far  as  I  knew,  no  one  entered  the 
outer  cabin. 

"  I  think  I  Ve  got  your  number,"  I  said  finally, 
wheeling  about  to  look  at  him. 

"  You  Ve  got  to  get  away  first,"  he  sneered  defiantly, 
"  and  you  '11  not  find  that  so  easy.  My  turn  will  come 
yet,  you  spy,  and  then  you  '11  learn  how  I  bite." 

I  laughed,  feeling  no  mercy. 

"  All  in  good  time,  friend;  I  think  you  have  had  your 
innings;  now  it 's  mine.  So  you  are  Charles  Henley?  " 

He  did  not  answer. 

'  The  illegitimate  son  of  Judge  Henley  and  a  negro 
mother.  That 's  a  clever  forgery,  that  paper  of  legal 
adoption,  I  admit.  Must  have  had  legal  advice  for 
that.  What  did  you  pay  the  lawyers?  " 

He  stared  at  me  with  compressed  lips. 

293 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  Not  ready  to  confess  yet?  Well,  you  will  be. 
By  the  way,  who  was  that  Pierre  who  wrote  telling  you 
of  Philip's  death?  Not  Vonique,  was  it?  " 

"  You  damn  white  devil !  "  he  burst  forth,  tortured 
beyond  resistance.  "What  do  you  know  about  him? 
Who  told  you?" 

"  You  '11  learn  it  all  soon  enough." 

"  You  're  a  sneaking  detective !  " 

"  Oh,  no,  Henley;  I  'm  merely  a  man  who  drifted 
into  this  adventure  blindly,  but  now  I  am  going  to  fight 
it  out  for  sake  of  the  woman.  It 's  a  pity  for  you  that 
you  did  n't  tap  me  on  the  head  a  bit  harder  back  in  the 
cellar." 

His  teeth  ground  together  savagely,  and  he  burst 
into  a  string  of  oaths. 

"  That 's  enough,"  and  I  got  to  my  feet.  "  I  see 
I  '11  have  to  gag  you  again." 

"  Where  's  the  steward?  " 

"  Asleep  in  the  pantry  when  I  came  in  here." 

"  And  Herman  —  has  n't  he  got  on  board  yet?  " 

"Oh,  yes;  two  hours,  or  more,  ago.  He  has  the 
deck  watch,  while  the  Creole  is  below.  Anything  else 
you  desire  explained?" 

"  You  think  you  're  smart,  but  you  '11  sing  a  different 
song  before  I  'm  through,"  he  snarled.  "  I  'm  hungry, 

294 


UNDER  WAY 

and  I  want  to  know  why  that  Dutchman  did  n't  come 
down  here  and  report." 

"  You  '11  have  to  stand  the  hunger  for  awhile.  As 
to  Herman,  I  suppose  he  had  nothing  to  tell.  Well, 
I  Ve  wasted  time  enough." 

I  replaced  the  gag,  and  took  a  survey  of  the  cabin 
to  make  sure  all  was  secure.  Uncomfortable  as  the 
man  was,  he  was  not  in  the  slightest  danger,  and  I  felt 
little  tenderness.  He  would  not  remain  long  undis- 
covered after  we  got  away,  and  our  only  possible  safety 
required  harsh  methods.  Nothing  had  occurred  in 
the  outer  cabin  during  my  absence,  but  the  growing 
shadows  evidenced  the  approach  of  twilight.  In  those 
waters  night  came  quickly.  Locking  the  Captain's  door, 
I  entered  my  own  stateroom,  and  sat  down  on  the 
lower  berth  to  wait,  leaving  my  door  slightly  ajar. 
The  cabin  grew  constantly  darker,  although  outside, 
through  the  open  port,  I  could  still  distinguish  gleams 
of  light  along  the  water  surface,  and  the  heights  of  the 
island.  Herman  came  down,  and  entered  his  state- 
room, but  without  closing  the  door.  He  remained  but 
a  moment,  or  two,  and  then  hurried  back  on  deck. 
Suddenly  a  gust  of  wind  blew  in  through  the  port,  and 
it  began  to  rain  gently,  but  in  huge  drops.  Far  away 
was  the  rumble  of  thunder,  echoing  across  the  open 

295 


GORDON  CRAIG 

sea.  The  storm  was  evidently  coming  up  slowly  from 
the  east,  as  all  the  western  sky  was  clear,  and  streaked 
with  golden  red. 

Then  a  sailor  —  I  thought  he  was  Peters,  but  could 
not  tell  —  came  shuffling  down  the  companion  stairs, 
his  oilskins  rustling,  and  pounded  on  the  second  mate's 
door. 

"All  hands,  Mr.  Broussard!" 

There  was  a  muffled  response,  and  the  Creole,  but- 
toning his  jacket  as  he  passed,  followed  the  other  on 
deck.  A  moment  later  I  heard  the  slow  throb  of  the 
engines,  and  glanced  out  to  note  the  shore-line  slipping 
past  into  the  gloom.  The  Sea  Gull  was  under  way. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

WE  MAKE  THE  EFFORT 

IT  would  be  some  time  yet  —  fifteen  or  twenty  min- 
utes at  the  best  — •  before  I  dared  attempt  to  carry 
out  my  plan  of  escape.  In  spite  of  the  overspreading 
cloud,  and  steady  rainfall,  daylight  lingered  in  the  west, 
and  a  spectral  glow  hung  above  the  ocean.  It  was  a 
peculiar,  almost  ghastly  light,  yet  of  sufficient  intensity 
to  render  objects  visible  for  a  considerable  distance. 
However,  there  were  preliminaries  to  be  attended  to, 
and  I  was  eager  to  be  busy. 

The  steward  had  aroused  from  his  nap,  and  I  watched 
him  lower  the  table,  and  spread  it  with  a  white  cloth. 
Now  the  distant  clatter  of  dishes  proved  him  to  be  in 
the  pantry.  He  could  be  dealt  with  there  even  to 
better  advantage  than  in  the  cabin,  and,  noncombatant 
as  he  undoubtedly  was,  I  felt  it  safer  to  place  him  be- 
yond power  to  create  any  alarm.  The  task  confront- 
ing me  was  far  too  serious  to  leave  our  rear  unguarded. 
I  slipped  silently  along  the  short  passageway,  and, 
watching  his  back  closely,  investigated  the  lock  on  the 

297 


GORDON  CRAIG 

pantry  door.  It  was  of  the  spring  variety,  easily  set 
to  fasten,  and  could  not  be  operated  from  the  inside. 
As  I  pressed  in  the  catch  there  was  a  clicking  sound, 
which  caused  the  negro  to  turn  around,  the  whites  of 
his  eyes  gleaming  oddly. 

"Oh,  my  Lordyl  I  nebber  heard  you,  Massa 
Craig.  By  golly,  sah,  dis  yere  niggah  sure  thought  he 
was  shot." 

"  Not  yet,  Louis,"  I  replied  quietly,  standing  in  the 
opening,  one  hand  still  on  the  latch.  "  But  it  is  just 
as  well  for  you  to  be  serious  about  it  —  I  Ve  got  the 
weapon  all  right  —  see,"  and  I  pushed  the  revolver 
butt  forward  into  his  range  of  vision.  "  I  don't  mean 
to  hurt  you  so  long  as  you  keep  still." 

;<  What  —  what  you  a-goin'  fer  to  do,  sah?  " 

u  Get  away  from  this  ship  if  I  can,  and  you  are  going 
to  help  by  remaining  right  where  you  are,  boy.  First, 
what 's  in  that  small  boat,  hung  to  davits  astern  — 
provisions,  I  mean?" 

His  teeth  chattered  so  he  could  hardly  answer,  but 
finally  words  came  through  his  lips. 

'  Thar  's  a  breaker  of  fresh  water,  an'  —  an'  a  pack- 
age o'  sea-biscuit,  sah.  Ah  —  Ah  reckon  that 's  all." 

"Good;  do  you  happen  to  know  how  far  we  are 
away  from  the  main  coast?  " 

298 


WE  MAKE  THE  EFFORT 

"  A  a-bout  thirty-five  mile,  sah." 

"Florida?" 

"  Yes,  sah." 

"  What  is  the  nearest  town  ?  " 

"  Ah  —  Ah  reckon  it  would  likely  be  Carlos,  sah, 
but  it  don't  'mount  ter  much." 

"  Can  you  tell  me  the  compass  point?  " 

He  scratched  his  head,  his  confidence  that  he  was  not 
going  to  be  hurt  returning,  as  I  questioned  him. 

"  Wai',  sah,  I  ain't  no  sailor  man  myself  —  no,  sah; 
but  de  second  mate  he  done  point  it  out  dis  mohnin' 
when  Ah  was  on  deck,  an1  he  say  it  lay  nor'east  by 
east,  sah.  Ah  members  dat  distinctly." 

"  That  will  be  all,  Louis.  Now  listen  to  me.  I 
am  going  to  shut  this  door,  and  lock  you  in.  I  '11  be 
on  board  here  for  an  hour  yet,  and  if  you  utter  so 
much  as  a  whimper  I  '11  come  down  here,  and  fill  you 
full  of  lead.  Are  you  going  to  keep  still?  " 

"  Ah  —  Ah  sure  am,  sah ;  my  Lordy !  Ah  don't  want 
fer  to  be  no  dead  niggah." 

"  Well,  you  will  be  if  I  hear  a  peep  out  of  you." 

I  closed  the  door,  testing  it  before  turning  away, 
smiling  grimly  to  myself  at  recollection  of  those  white 
eyeballs  glaring  at  me  through  the  gloom.  Louis  was 
evidently  not  the  stuff  of  which  martyrs  are  made. 

299 


GORDON  CRAIG 

There  was  a  small  tell-tale  compass  fastened  to  a 
beam  over  the  table.     I  unscrewed  this  without  diffi- 
culty, and  dropped  it  into  my  pocket.     It  would  be  a 
dark  night  with  that  cloud  shutting  out  the  sky,  with 
probably  not  a  shore  light  visible.     Then  I  climbed 
the  companion  stairs  to  take  a  survey  of  the  deck.     As 
the  cabin  lights  had  none  of  them  been  lit,  I  could 
stand  in  the  shadow  of  the  hood  without  fear  of  being 
seen,  and  my  eyes,  accustomed  to  the  slow  approach  of 
darkness,  could  see  fairly  well.     No  attempt  had  been 
made  to  spread  sail,  although  doubtless  a  closely  reefed 
jib  helped  to  steady  the  vessel,  which  was  advancing 
steadily  under  medium  engine  power.     Quietness,  and 
secrecy  was  clearly  the  aim  sought,  for  the  stacks  dis- 
charged only  a  faint  haze  of  smoke,  instantly  disap- 
pearing into  the  cloud  mass  above,  while  the  sound  of 
the  revolving  screws  was  scarcely  discernible.     Never- 
theless we  were  slipping  through  the  water  at  fair  rate 
of  speed,  leaving  a  very  perceptible  wake  astern.     Judg- 
ing from  our  present  progress  the  Sea  Gull  would  prove 
herself  a  clipper  once  under  full  steam.     The  open 
decks  glistened  with  water,  although  the  rainfall  was 
light  and  intermittent;  thunder  rumbled  to  the  north- 
ward, with  occasional  flashes  of  lightning.     Even  as  I 
stood  there,  staring  forward,  endeavoring  to  make  out 

300 


WE  MAKE  THE  EFFORT 

certain  objects  in  the  gloom,  the  overhanging  cloud 
seemed  to  close  in  across  the  western  sky,  instantly 
plunging  us  into  night.  Like  a  spectral  ship  we  swept 
through  the  slight  smother,  gently  lifted  by  the  long 
swell,  without  a  light  burning  fore  or  aft.  I  heard  no 
movement  of  men,  no  voice  shouting  orders,  yet  before 
that  last  gleam  faded,  I  had  seen  outlined  several  fig- 
ures on  the  bridge.  To  better  assure  myself  that  no 
watch  was  upon  the  after  deck,  I  circled  the  cabin,  and 
then,  crouching  in  the  shadow  of  the  rail,  advanced 
even  with  the  chart-house.  From  this  point  I  could 
distinguish  voices  in  conversation,  but  the  forms  of  the 
men  could  not  be  discerned.  Still,  without  accurately 
locating  them,  I  had  ascertained  all  I  required  to 
know,  and  made  my  way  back  along  the  slippery  deck. 
All  hands  were  on  duty  forward,  and  would  be  held 
there  for  a  time,  at  least,  while  the  Sea  Gull  was  slip- 
ping through  the  danger  zone.  But  supper  had  not 
been  served,  and  one  of  the  watches  might  be  piped 
down  at  any  moment.  This  would  bring  one  of  the 
mates  aft  to  the  cabin. 

Driven  by  the  thought,  I  rapped  softly  on  her  door, 
and  she  came  forth  instantly,  fully  dressed. 

"You  are  ready?" 

"  Yes." 

301 


GORDON  CRAIG 

'  You  '11  need  a  waterproof  of  some  kind  —  it 's 
raining  outside.  Wait  a  moment;  there  will  be  a  coat 
in  some  of  these  staterooms." 

I  found  one,  a  fisherman's  slicker,  and  wrapped  her 
in  it.  It  was  a  world  too  big,  but  I  tightened  the  belt, 
and  turned  up  the  skirts,  so  she  managed  to  walk.  It 
would  serve  to  keep  her  dry,  although  worn  under  in- 
dignant protest. 

"  Oh,  I  can't,"  she  proclaimed.  "  Why,  I  must  be 
a  perfect  fright." 

"Not  to  me;  besides,  it's  dark  as  Erebus.  Here, 
let  me  take  your  hand;  I  know  every  step  of  the  way." 

I  led  her  forward  slowly,  so  that  the  flapping  of  the 
oilskins  against  the  stair-rail  would  not  be  heard.  The 
steady  patter  of  rain  on  the  deck  planks  drowned  what 
little  noise  we  made,  and  as  we  emerged  into  the  hood 
a  gust  of  wind  drove  the  moisture  into  our  faces.  I 
could  feel  my  heart  thump,  yet  it  was  more  because  of 
her  proximity  than  any  excitement  of  adventure.  So 
far  as  I  could  perceive,  peering  out  into  the  storm  with 
hand  shading  my  eyes,  the  way  was  clear,  and,  bidding 
her  stoop  low,  we  slipped  back  along  the  narrow  deck 
passage  into  the  shadow  cast  by  the  boat.  Here,  pro- 
tected as  we  were  by  the  bulge  of  the  cabin,  there  was 
slight  probability  of  our  being  observed,  and  I  stood 

302 


WE  MAKE  THE  EFFORT 

up,  again  examining  the  tackle  to  reassure  myself  of 
its  proper  working.  I  even  tested  the  boat's  weight 
in  sudden  fear  lest  I  could  not  hold  it  alone.  Then  I 
whispered  to  the  shapeless  form  crouched  beside  me. 

"  Now,"  I  said,  "  step  on  my  knee,  and  I  '11  help  you 
over.  Don't  hurry  —  only  be  quiet." 

"  How  can  I  with  this  ridiculous  thing  on?  " 
'  You  must  try.     That 's  it;  now  just  let  me  lift  you 
—  steady  yourself  with  the  tackle." 

She  peered  back  at  me  over  the  side  of  the  boat,  her 
hair  shining  with  moisture. 

"  Now  are  you  coming?  " 

"  No ;  I  shall  have  to  remain  here  and  lower  the 
boat." 

"  But  I  don't  know  what  to  do." 

"  Listen,  and  I  '11  tell  you.  Turn  about  and  face  the 
stern.  Yes,  that  is  the  way  I  mean;  keep  your  hand 
on  that  rope  so  as  not  to  make  a  mistake.  Now  take 
this  knife ;  don't  drop  it.  The  moment  the  boat  touches 
the  water  —  an  instant  before,  if  possible  —  cut  the 
rope  you  have  hold  on.  Then  hurry  forward  and  cut 
the  other.  You  understand?  " 

"I  —  I  think  so;  I  am  to  cut  this  first  and  then  the 
other." 

'  Yes ;  now  don't  fail.     You  see  we  are  launching 
303 


GORDON  CRAIG 

this  boat  above  the  screw.  There  is  bound  to  be  suc- 
tion. If  you  cut  as  I  say,  you  will  drift  off  bow  on 
to  the  course  of  the  vessel,  and  will  float  free;  otherwise 
the  boat  is  likely  to  be  swamped.  You  see  what  I 
mean?  " 

She  nodded. 

"  The  quicker  you  can  get  to  that  second  rope,"  I 
added  seriously,  "  the  better  your  chances." 

"  Then  I  '11  get  out  of  these  oilskins,"  and  she 
struggled  out  of  them,  with  every  semblance  of  relief, 
tucking  the  bundle  out  of  sight.  "  I  don't  care  if  I 
get  wet.  But  —  but,  what  are  you  going  to  do?  " 

'  Jump  for  it,  as  soon  as  you  are  fairly  afloat.  I  '11 
be  aboard  before  you  know  it.  Are  you  ready?  " 

She  was  looking  forward,  and  her  hand  gripped  mine. 
Her  failure  to  answer,  and  the  sudden  pressure  of  fin- 
gers, was  a  warning  of  danger.  I  glanced  back  across 
my  shoulder.  In  front  of  the  cabin  stood  a  man  star- 
ing aft.  His  huge  bulk,  even  in  that  darkness,  told  me 
it  was  Herman. 


304 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

THE   OPEN   BOAT 

FOLLOWING  the  first  impulse  of  this  alarming  dis- 
covery I  pressed  her  back  into  the  boat,  and 
crouched  low  myself  behind  the  protection  of  the  flag 
locker.  The  fellow  might  not  have  seen  us.  How 
still  it  was;  only  the  swish  of  water  astern,  and  the 
continuous  patter  of  rain.  The  pounding  of  my  heart 
was  like  that  of  a  trip  hammer,  as  I  listened  intently 
for  any  movement.  For  a  long  moment  of  suspense 
there  was  none;  then  I  heard  his  heavy  step  on  the 
deck,  as  he  came  slowly  forward  around  the  bulge  of 
the  cabin.  The  very  manner  of  his  advance  told  me 
his  uncertainty;  something  had  occurred  to  arouse  sus- 
picion—  he  had  heard  a  noise,  or  seen  a  shadow  — 
and  was  investigating  curiously.  He  came  up  to  the 
stern  rail,  standing  still,  a  huge  bulk  in  the  gloom,  his 
gaze  on  the  swinging  boat.  Then,  unsatisfied,  he 
leaned  forward,  and  began  to  explore  with  one  hand. 
Apparently  he  touched  something  strange;  the  edge  of 
20  305 


GORDON  CRAIG 

her  skirt  it  must  have  been,  for  there  was  a  bit  of 
cloth  in  the  lifted  fingers.  Noiselessly  I  arose  to  my 
feet,  planting  myself  firmly  on  the  wet  deck.  There 
was  but  one  means  of  escape  now,  and  big  as  the  fel- 
low was,  I  must  accept  the  chance.  Another  minute 
would  mean  discovery,  and  his  bull  voice  would  roar  the 
length  of  the  ship.  He  neither  saw,  nor  heard  me,  his 
whole  attention  concentrated  on  the  boat.  Without 
warning,  putting  every  ounce  of  strength  into  the  blow, 
I  struck,  landing  square  on  the  chin.  There  was  a 
smothered  groan,  and  he  collapsed,  hurled  back  bodily, 
his  arms  flung  up.  I  heard  him  thud  against  the  rail, 
his  great  form  bending  to  the  shock,  and  then  he  went 
over,  whirling  through  the  air. 

The  result  was  so  sudden,  so  unexpected,  as  to  be  all 
accomplished  before  I  realized  its  possibility.  I  saw 
him  go  down,  blindly  clawing  with  his  hands  at  the 
open  air,  and  yet  it  was  more  a  delirium  than  a  reality. 
There  was  no  splash,  no  cry,  and  I  leaned  over  the  rail, 
rubbing  my  bruised  knuckles,  and  staring  down  into 
the  black  void  where  the  fellow  had  disappeared, 
scarcely  believing  the  truth  of  what  I  had  actually  wit- 
nessed. 

"  What  is  it?  "  she  asked,  her  voice  barely  audible. 
"  What  has  happened?  " 

306 


THE  OPEN  BOAT 

Her  voice  seemed  to  recall  me  instantly,  to  restore 
my  numbed  faculties. 

"  Why,  really  I  hardly  know,"  I  answered,  yet  step- 
ping back  to  grip  the  ropes.  "  The  fellow  had  hold 
of  your  dress,  did  n't  he?  " 

"  Yes,  oh !  I  was  so  frightened,  and  —  and  then  he 
jerked  me  horribly." 

"  That  was  when  I  hit  him.  I  must  have  got  the 
big  brute  just  right.  He  fell  back  as  if  he  had  been 
pole-axed,  crashed  into  the  rail,  and  went  overboard." 

She  looked  down  into  the  swirl  beneath,  clutching 
the  edge  of  the  boat  with  her  hands. 

"Is  — is  he  down  there  —  in  the  water?  Do  you 
—  you  suppose  he  is  drowned?  " 

"  I  don't  see  what  else  he  could  be.  I  did  n't  mean 
to  kill  him;  just  to  knock  him  out,  but  I  don't  believe 
he  had  any  swim  left  by  the  time  he  hit  the  water." 

"I  —  I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  it!  " 

"  Now  see  here,"  I  said,  coming  back  to  my  senses. 
"  This  is  all  foolishness,  and  losing  us  time.  1  'm  not 
sorry  he  is  out  of  the  way;  it  was  either  his  life  or 
ours.  He  was  a  big,  lawless  brute,  a  murderer  at 
heart,  if  he  was  n't  in  deed.  Now  there  is  all  the  more 
reason  for  us  to  hurry.  Have  you  got  the  knife?  " 

"  Yes." 

307 


GORDON  CRAIG 

'  Then  get  hold  of  that  stern  rope ;  I  am  going  to 
lower  away." 

She  obeyed  me,  but  it  was  mechanical,  her  eyes  still 
fixed  upon  the  water. 

"  Be  quick  now,"  I  said  sternly,  and  my  hand  pressed 
her  shoulder.  "  Your  life  depends  on  your  prompt- 
ness." 

I  loosened  the  ropes,  permitting  them  to  run  slowly 
through  the  blocks.  There  was  no  creaking,  and  I 
rejoiced  at  the  ease  with  which  I  sustained  the  weight, 
as  the  boat  descended.  Slowly  it  sank  below  into  the 
darkness,  until  it  was  merely  a  black,  shapeless  shadow 
outlined  against  the  water.  I  felt  the  strain  on  my 
arms  as  the  swell  gripped  its  keel ;  then  the  stern  swung 
free,  and  I  knew  she  was  scrambling  forward,  knife  in 
hand,  for  the  other  rope.  Almost  before  the  boat  could 
swing  about,  the  second  stay  dangled,  and  all  my  strain- 
ing eyes  could  perceive  was  a  dark,  indefinite  shadow 
drifting  out  of  sight  astern.  Without  uttering  a  sound, 
or  wasting  a  second,  I  dived  from  the  rail.  I  came  up 
to  the  surface,  swishing  the  water  from  my  eyes.  Five 
fathoms  away  was  the  shapeless  outline  of  the  boat, 
tossing  helplessly  on  the  swell,  the  girl  still  in  the  bow, 
her  very  attitude  bespeaking  terror. 

"  It 's  all  right,"  I  called,  loud  enough  for  her  to 

308 


THE  OPEN  BOAT 

hear.  "  Throw  out  an  oar  on  the  left,  and  hold  her. 
I  '11  be  there  in  a  minute." 

She  heard  me  and  understood,  for  with  one  sob  of 
relief  plainly  audible  in  the  still  night,  she  shipped  the 
oar.  Weighted  by  sodden  clothes  even  that  short  dis- 
tance tested  me,  yet  her  efforts,  small  as  they  were, 
halted  the  boat's  drift,  and  I  made  it,  almost  breathless, 
when  I  finally  gripped  the  gunwale,  and  hung  on  to 
regain  a  measure  of  strength. 

"Oh,  thank  God!"  she  exclaimed,  staring  at  me. 
"I  —  I  thought  you  were  lost." 

"  My  clothes  are  like  lead,"  I  panted.  "  They 
dragged  me  down  twice.  That 's  over  with  now." 

"  But  —  but  what  could  I  have  done  if  you  had  not 
come  I  " 

"  Don't  think  of  it;  the  danger  is  all  over.  You 
needn't  pull  on  the  oar;  just  hold  it  straight  out;  that 
will  keep  the  boat's  head  forward." 

"  Can  you  get  over  the  side?  " 

"  In  a  moment  —  yes;  as  soon  as  I  get  my  breath 
back.  Did  you  notice  any  alarm  on  board  the  Sea 
Gullf" 

She  shaded  her  eyes  with  one  hand,  holding  the 
heavy  oar  against  her  body,  and  looked  ahead. 

"  No ;  I  was  not  thinking  about  that  —  only  of  your 

309 


GORDON  CRAIG 

danger,  and  my  awful  position.     I  was  never  so  fright- 
ened before." 

"  Can  you  still  see  the  vessel?  " 

"  Just  a  shadow  against  the  sky.  I  —  I  think  she 
is  moving  straight  ahead." 

"  Then  we  have  not  been  missed,  nor  the  mate. 
Doubtless  he  was  going  below  for  his  supper.  Now 
lean  well  over  to  port  —  yes,  the  left  —  and  balance 
the  boat;  I  am  going  to  climb  in." 

With  a  struggle,  I  made  it,  rolling  over  the  low  gun- 
wale, the  water  draining  from  me  into  a  pool  at  the 
bottom,  the  slight  chill  of  the  night  air  making  me 
shiver.  It  was  not  raining  now,  although  there  was  a 
vapory  mist  in  the  atmosphere,  almost  a  drizzle.  I  sat 
up,  and  touched  her  hand  where  it  grasped  the  oar. 

'  You  are  a  fine  brave  girl,"  I  said  sincerely,  unable 
to  restrain  my  admiration. 

She  dropped  her  head,  and  began  to  sob. 

"  Oh,  no,  no  I  I  am  not,"  she  replied,  tremblingly. 
"  I  am  such  a  coward.  You  cannot  know  the  terror  I 
have  felt." 

'  That  is  the  test  of  courage;  you  faced  peril  realiz- 
ing all  you  risked.  Not  one  in  a  thousand  would  have 
done  as  well." 

"  You  —  you  really  think  so?  "  and  she  glanced  to- 

310 


THE  OPEN  BOAT 

ward  me,  "  or  are  you  merely  seeking  to  encourage 
me?  But  you  are  soaking  wet,  and  must  be  cold." 

"  A  little  damp  —  yes,"  and  I  laughed,  stretching 
my  limbs,  "  but  there  is  plenty  to  do  now  to  keep  me 
warm.  Where  is  the  Sea  Gull?  I  hardly  know  in 
which  direction  to  look." 

She  pointed  over  the  port  bow,  and,  with  an  effort, 
I  managed  to  make  out,  through  the  misty  gloom,  a 
faint  shadow  against  the  sky.  Not  a  light  was  visible, 
nor  could  I  decipher  any  real  outline  of  the  vessel. 
Even  as  I  stared  in  uncertainty  this  dim  spectral  shade 
vanished,  swallowed  up  in  the  night. 

"  Why,"  she  said,  "  it  is  gone  now;  I  cannot  see  it  at 
all  any  more." 

"  The  best  luck  that  could  happen  to  us.  Now  we 
will  widen  the  stretch  of  water  as  much  as  possible." 
I  leaned  over,  and  clawed  about  until  I  found  the  dis- 
carded oilskins,  and  wrapped  them  about  her,  despite 
protests. 

"  No,  not  another  word,  young  lady.  I  shall  have 
to  work  and  cannot  be  bothered  with  such  things,  while 
you  must  sit  there  and  hold  that  oar  until  we  have  some 
sail  spread.  This  mist  is  as  bad  as  rain;  your  jacket 
is  soaked  already.  Have  n't  you  learned  yet  to  obey 
your  captain's  orders?  " 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  I  was  never  very  good  at  that." 

"  Obeying,  you  mean  ?  Well,  you  have  no  choice 
now.  Hold  steady  while  I  step  the  mast." 

Fortunately  the  spar  was  not  a  heavy  one.  Except 
for  the  roll  of  the  boat  I  could  have  handled  it  alone, 
but  fearful  of  capsizing,  I  lashed  the  oar  into  position, 
and  she  helped  me  steady  it  down  until  it  rested  solidly 
in  the  socket.  Our  eyes  met. 

"  You  are  not  so  frightened  now." 

"  Not  when  I  am  busy;  it  —  it  was  being  left  alone, 
and  —  and  thought  of  that  drowned  man." 

"  Of  course,  but  my  being  here  makes  a  difference?  " 

"  Always,"  she  confessed  frankly.  "  Somehow  I 
can  never  be  afraid  with  you.  But  —  but  what  shall 
we  do  now?  " 

"  I  hardly  know  what  to  put  you  at —  oh,  yes,  here 
is  a  tin,  and  you  can  bail  out  this  water  sloshing  about 
in  the  bottom.  That  will  be  valuable  service." 

"What  will  you  do?" 

"  Rig  up  the  sail  the  best  I  can  in  the  dark;  there  is 
breeze  enough  to  give  us  some  headway,  and  ship  the 
rudder." 

"  Do  you  know  which  direction  to  steer?  " 

"  Not  now,  but  I  have  a  compass  in  my  pocket;  a 
northeast  course  would  be  sure  to  bring  us  to  the  coast, 

312 


THE  OPEN  BOAT 

and  towns  are  scattered  along.  I  found  that  out  from 
Broussard  yesterday." 

She  made  no  response,  bending  over  with  the  tin 
dipper,  and  I  went  at  my  task,  straightening  out  ropes 
so  they  would  work  easily  through  the  blocks.  In  spite 
of  the  darkness  I  was  not  greatly  hampered,  as  every- 
thing had  been  stored  away  in  shipshape  manner,  and 
came  conveniently  to  hand.  The  wind  freshened  per- 
ceptibly while  I  was  thus  engaged,  veering  into  the 
southeast,  so  that  all  the  cloth  I  dare  spread  was  the 
jib  and  a  closely  reefed  mainsail.  The  boat  acted  a 
bit  cranky,  but,  confident  she  would  stand  up  under  this 
canvas,  I  crawled  back  to  the  tiller,  eased  off  the  sheet 
a  trifle  more,  and  waited  results.  We  shipped  a  bucket 
full  of  water,  and  then  settled  into  a  good  pace,  a 
cream  of  surge  along  our  port  gunwale,  and  a  white 
wake  astern.  The  woman  kept  on  bailing  steadily, 
until  the  planks  were  dry,  and  then  crept  cautiously 
back  to  the  thwart  just  in  front  of  me,  leaning  over 
slightly  to  keep  clear  of  the  occasional  flap  of  the  sail. 

I  hoped  she  would  speak,  and  thus  afford  me  some 
excuse  for  telling  what  I  had  discovered  on  board  the 
Sea  Gull,  but  she  sat  there  in  silence,  staring 
straight  ahead  into  the  ceaseless  drizzle,  her  oilskins 
gathered  tightly.  Holding  the  tiller  under  my  arm 

313 


GORDON  CRAIG 

I  unscrewed  the  face  of  the  compass,  and  made  a  guess 
at  our  position.  However,  there  was  no  star,  or  other 
mark  of  guidance,  by  which  I  could  steer;  only  the 
wind,  which  apparently  shifted  in  gusts,  and  I  could 
merely  hold  the  leaping  craft  in  the  course  I  deemed 
safest.  I  doubt  if  the  eye  penetrated  twenty  feet  be- 
yond the  boat's  rail,  but  we  raced  through  the  smother 
in  a  way  that  gave  me  a  certain  thrill  of  exultation.  At 
least  we  were  clear  of  the  Sea  Gull,  and  safe  enough, 
unless  a  storm  arose.  With  the  return  of  daylight  a 
course  could  be  set  for  the  coast,  which  would  n't  be  far 
away.  So  I  stared  into  the  darkness,  and  waited, 
scarcely  bold  enough  to  break  the  silence. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

A  TALK  IN  THE  NIGHT 

I  WONDERED  what  awaited  us  ahead  in  that  black 
mystery  of  waters;  had  they  discovered  yet  our 
absence  on  board  the  Sea  Gull?  If  so,  what  would 
Henley  do?  Knowing  that  I  had  rifled  his  desk,  his  one 
thought  upon  release  would  naturally  be  the  recovery 
of  the  papers.  Besides,  smarting  from  his  bonds,  and 
thirsting  for  revenge,  he  would  never  permit  the  ves- 
sel to  depart  from  these  waters  without  an  effort  to 
overtake  us.  Private  vengeance  would  outweigh  all 
other  considerations.  God  pity  us  if  we  ever  fell  into 
his  clutches  again.  And  there  would  be  no  doubt  as 
to  the  manner  of  our  escape  —  the  trail  left  was  a 
plain  one.  I  could  imagine  the  scene  on  board  when 
the  discovery  of  our  escape  was  first  made  —  the  search 
for  the  missing  mate,  the  discovery  of  the  loss  of  the 
boat,  the  dangling  ropes  proving  how  it  had  been 
lowered.  Then  would  follow  an  excited  investigation 
below,  revealing  the  steward  locked  into  his  pantry, 
and  the  raging  captain  tied  and  gagged  in  his  berth. 

315] 


GORDON  CRAIG 

I  could  not  forbear  laughing  to  myself  at  the  picture, 
and  yet  never  was  insensible  to  the  danger  still  con- 
fronting us. 

There  was  in  my  mind,  now  I  had  leisure  to  con- 
sider, no  doubt  as  to  what  those  on  board  that  vessel 
would  do.  They  would  realize  we  were  somewhat 
astern,  and,  in  the  hope  of  sighting  us  at  daylight,  would 
cruise  back  and  forth  in  those  immediate  waters.  Any 
moment  the  Sea  Gull's  sharp  prow  might  loom  up  out 
of  the  black  wall.  As  she  carried  no  lights  there  would 
be  no  warning.  It  occurred  to  me  that  they  would  be 
more  apt  to  take  a  course  well  in  toward  shore,  antici- 
pating I  would  endeavor  to  reach  the  protection  of  the 
coast  under  cover  of  darkness.  Someone  would  dis- 
cover the  loss  of  the  tell-tale  compass,  which  would 
naturally  confirm  that  suspicion.  Convinced  of  this 
I  steered  more  to  the  eastward,  feeling  of  the  face  of 
the  compass  again  to  assure  myself  of  the  direction. 
I  found  even  this  small  change  an  advantage  in  more 
ways  than  one,  as  the  boat  moved  steadier,  and  I  was 
able  to  spread  a  larger  amount  of  canvas.  Lashing 
the  tiller,  I  crept  forward  and  shook  out  an  additional 
reef,  hauling  the  ropes  taut.  By  this  time  the  wind 
had  steadied  into  a  brisk  breeze,  and  the  rain  had 
ceased.  Crawling  back  across  the  thwarts,  I  took  the 

316 


A  TALK  IN  THE  NIGHT 

jumping  tiller  again  into  my  hands,  and  held  her  nose 
to  it,  seeking  every  advantage.  I  had  brought  back 
with  me  a  tin  of  biscuit  from  the  bow  locker,  more  as 
an  excuse  for  opening  conversation  than  from  any  feel- 
ing of  hunger. 

"  It  must  be  pretty  close  to  midnight,"  I  said  finally. 
"  Are  you  hungry?  " 

The  shapeless  form  in  the  oilskins  straightened 
slightly,  and  I  knew  she  had  turned  her  face  toward  me. 

"  Hungry !     Oh,  no ;  I  had  not  thought  of  that." 

"  You  have  been  crying?  " 

"  Yes;  it  is  so  foolish,  but  I  am  so  frightened  out  here 
in  this  little  boat.  The  darkness,  and  that  awful  water 
has  got  upon  my  nerves.  You  — r  you  must  n't  scold 


me." 


"Of  course  not  —  I  feel  the  weight  myself,"  I  re- 
plied kindly.  '  This  experience  is  almost  as  new  to 
me  as  to  yourself.  You  must  remember  I  am  no 
sailor." 

"  Yet  you  understand  boats ;  you  know  the  sea." 
"  Only  a  little  about  small  boats;  I  picked  that  up  in 
the  Philippines;  but  I  have  never  had  to  rely  entirely 
upon  myself  before." 

"  But  you  are  not  afraid?  " 

I  laughed  softly,  hoping  to  reassure  her. 

317 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  Not  of  those  things  which  most  affect  you,  at  least. 
I  can  handle  the  boat  all  right  in  this  sea  and  wind, 
while  the  darkness  possesses  no  special  terror." 

"Nor  the  memory  of  that  dead  man  float-— float- 
ing somewhere  yonder?  " 

"  I  have  hardly  thought  about  him.  I  have  seen  so 
many  dead  men  in  the  past  three  years  I  have  become 
hardened  possibly.  You  must  n't  let  your  mind  dwell 
on  that  grewsome  incident.  It  was  unavoidable,  our 
only  means  of  escape.  His  death  was  an  accident." 

"  What  is  it  then  you  are  afraid  of?  " 

I  told  her,  dwelling  upon  our  situation  so  far  as  I 
could  understand  it,  and  describing  the  change  in  my 
plans.  She  listened  quietly,  asking  a  question  now  and 
then,  sitting  erect,  the  oilskins  thrown  aside,  and  one 
hand  grasping  the  boat's  rail. 

"  What  papers  did  you  find  in  the  desk?  " 

"  Letters  mostly,  establishing  the  identity  of  the 
Captain." 

"Who  is  he  — really?" 

"  Charles  Henley  —  Philip  Henley's  half  brother  by 
a  negro  mother.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  him  ?  * 

"  No;  I  was  never  told  there  was  such  a  man." 

"  I  doubt  if  anyone,  outside  those  immediately  in- 
terested, ever  knew  the  circumstances.  Of  course  the 

318 


A  TALK  IN  THE  NIGHT 

family  kept  it  a  close  secret.  This  is  where  the  man 
had  all  the  advantage.  As  soon  as  the  Judge  died  he 
determined  to  represent  himself  as  Philip,  and  claim 
the  property. 

"  As  Philip  had  been  absent  so  long,  no  one  could  dis- 
pute successfully  his  claim  to  be  that  individual.  He 
possessed  ample  evidence  that  he  was  the  son  of  Judge 
Henley." 

"  But  surely  he  would  anticipate  that  my  hus  — 
Philip  —  would  hear  of  his  father's  death?  " 

"  He  took  the  chance  of  getting  the  property  into 
his  hands  first  As  I  understand  the  matter  he  pos- 
sessed no  knowledge  that  the  Judge  was  In  communica- 
tion with  Philip.  He  believed  the  latter  had  disap- 
peared utterly,  and  would  only  learn  of  his  inheritance 
through  accident.  To  prevent  this  he  dispatched  a 
man  North  to  discover  him,  if  possible,  and  keep  him 
under  surveillance.  He  thought  he  had  every  avenue 
guarded." 

"  And  —  and  you  said  his  mother  was  a  negress?  " 

"Yes  — old  Sallie." 

11  What !     That  awful  creature !  " 

"  Probably  she  was  not  that  in  her  younger  days." 

"  I  cannot  imagine  such  a  thing.  How  did  you  learn 
this?" 

319 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  From  Broussard  first.  They  have  been  together 
for  years,  but  I  happened  to  discover  the  fellow  when 
he  was  angry  over  a  punishment.  He  talked  more 
freely  than  he  intended  to  do,  and  later  I  verified  all 
he  said  by  the  letters  found." 

'  Then,  strange  as  it  sounds,  it  is  true?  " 

;<  Without  doubt.  Moreover,"  and  I  lowered  my 
voice  in  sudden  embarrassment,  "  within  the  last  two 
weeks  the  Captain  had  received  news  from  his  agent  in 
the  North,  which  gave  him  fresh  confidence.  From  his 
standpoint  he  no  longer  had  any  cause  for  fear  from 
the  chief  source." 

"  What  —  what  do  you  mean?  " 

'  You  will  believe  me?  You  will  not  think  I  manu- 
facture this?  " 

"  Certainly  not  —  but  —  but  I  do  not  understand." 

;<  Well,  the  man  reported  that  he  had  found  trace  of 
Philip  Henley;  he  told  of  the  life  the  man  was  leading, 
and  where  he  lived.  I  think  all  this  must  have  been 
immediately  after  your  separation,  as  he  mentioned  no 
wife.  However,  he  described  something  even  more  im- 
portant." 

'  You  must  tell  me,"  she  burst  forth,  as  I  hesitated. 
"  Don't  be  afraid  to  trust  me  with  all  you  know." 

"  I  am  not  afraid,"  I  returned  stoutly  enough,  "  not 

320 


A  TALK  IN  THE  NIGHT 

in  the  sense  you  mean,  at  least,  yet  it  is  never  easy  to 
be  the  bearer  of  evil  news." 

"It  is  evil?" 

"  Misfortune,  certainly.  The  man  reported  the 
death  of  your  husband." 

"  His  death !     You  are  sure?  " 

I  could  hear  her  quick  breathing,  as  she  leaned  for- 
ward, all  attention  riveted  on  me. 

"  Yes." 

"  You  saw  the  report?  " 

"  I  have  it  with  me ;  as  soon  as  it  becomes  daylight 
you  can  read  it  yourself." 

"Yes,  but  tell  me  now  what  he  said;  how  it  hap- 
pened." 

"  The  report  was  specific,  and  would  seem  to  be  true. 
He  says  that  Philip  Henley,  while  intoxicated,  was 
struck  and  killed  by  an  automobile.  The  date  given 
was  after  you  left  him.  His  body  was  found  by  the 
police  but  his  pockets  had  been  rifled,  and  there  were  no 
marks  of  identification  on  his  clothes.  He  was  buried 
unknown,  but  the  informant  claimed  to  have  visited  the 
morgue,  viewed  the  body,  and  states  positively  the  dead 
man  was  Philip." 

"  And  —  and  you  think  —  tell  me  what  you  believe, 
Gordon  Craig." 

21  321 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  There  is  but  one  conclusion  to  my  mind.  I  have 
no  doubt  as  to  the  entire  truth  of  the  story.  The  si- 
lence and  disappearance  of  your  husband  is  evidence 
that  he  is  either  dead,  or,  in  some  other  way,  helpless. 
The  former  explanation  is  the  most  probable,  and, 
coupled  with  this  fellow's  statement,  seems  unquestion- 
able. There  would  be  no  apparent  reason  why  he 
should  lie." 

"  No ;  there  is  none.  I  —  I  —  really,  I  have 
thought  this  all  the  time;  but  about  those  others?  " 

"  Vail  and  Neale,  you  mean?  It  seems  to  me  they 
fit  in  exactly  with  the  story.  Everything  had  been  re- 
moved from  Philip's  pockets,  and  all  ordinary  means 
of  identification  destroyed.  There  must  have  been  a 
purpose  in  this,  and  it  must  have  been  done  by  a  sec- 
ond party,  as  there  is  no  suggestion  of  suicide.  My 
theory  is  this  —  the  body  was  either  found  by  others 
before  the  police  arrived,  or  else  the  automobile  party 
which  killed  him  paused  long  enough  to  ascertain  the 
extent  of  his  injuries.  In  either  case  his  pockets  were 
searched,  and  all  contents  removed.  Do  you  compre- 
hend what  that  would  mean?  " 

"I  —  I  think  so;  but  tell  me  yourself." 

"  He  certainly  had  papers  with  him  dealing  with  his 
inheritance.  To  a  shrewd,  criminal  mind  they  would 

322 


A  TALK  IN  THE  NIGHT 

be  suggestive.  He  also,  undoubtedly,  had  keys  to  his 
apartments.  With  these  in  their  possession  it  would 
be  comparatively  easy  for  unscrupulous  persons  to  ascer- 
tain the  entire  nature  of  the  case,  and  secure  all  neces- 
sary documents.  Then  there  would  be  nothing  more 
needed  except  a  man  capable  of  passing  himself  off  as 
Philip  Henley." 

"  And  Vail  was  not  a  lawyer,"  she  asked  breathlessly, 
"  nor  Neale  one  of  the  executors?  " 

"  In  my  judgment  the  fellows  merely  took  those 
names  to  impose  upon  me,  to  help  bolster  up  their 
story,  and  make  it  appear  probable.  They  were  simply 
two  crooks,  willing  to  take  a  chance  for  a  pot  of  money. 
I  happened  to  be  the  one  selected  to  pull  their  chestnuts 
out  of  the  fire." 

I  saw  her  head  sink  into  the  support  of  her  hands, 
and  knew  she  was  sobbing  silently. 


323 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

WE  UNDERSTAND  EACH  OTHER 

think  my  conclusions  must  be  correct?"  I 
could  not  refrain  from  asking. 

"  Yes;  even  without  seeing  the  letter,  but,"  and  she 
glanced  up  quickly,  "  the  ring  —  Philip's  ring  —  we 
found?" 

"  I  forgot  to  mention  that.  Its  presence  here  alone 
is  convincing.  It  was  sent  to  Charles  Henley  by  his 
agent,  who  claimed  to  have  removed  it  from  the  finger 
of  the  dead  man." 

"Then  every  doubt  is  removed;  the  one  killed  was 
my  hus  —  husband." 

There  was  a  long,  painful  silence,  during  which  I 
stared  out  into  the  dark,  mechanically  guiding  the  boat, 
although  every  thought  centered  on  her  motionless  fig- 
ure. What  should  I  say?  how  was  I  to  approach  her 
now?  Before  there  had  always  been  a  frank  spirit  of 
comradeship  between  us ;  no  reserve,  no  hesitancy  in  the 
exchange  of  confidences.  But  with  this  assurance  of 
Philip  Henley's  death,  everything  was  changed.  I 

324 


WE  UNDERSTAND  EACH  OTHER 

longed  to  go  to  her  and  pour  out  my  sympathy,  but 
some  instinct  held  me  back,  held  me  wordless.  I  knew 
not  what  to  say,  or  how  any  effort  on  my  part  would 
be  received.  Instantly  there  had  been  a  barrier  erected 
between  us  which  she  alone  could  lower.  Those  were 
long  minutes  I  sat  there,  speechless,  gazing  straight 
ahead,  my  brain  inert,  my  hand  hard  on  the  tiller.  Sud- 
denly, with  a  swift  thrill  which  sent  my  blood  leaping, 
I  felt  the  soft  touch  of  her  fingers. 

11  Are  you  afraid  to  speak  to  me?  "  she  asked,  plead- 
ingly. "  Surely  I  have  said  nothing  to  anger  you." 

"  No,  it  is  not  that,"  I  returned  in  confusion,  not 
knowing  how  to  express  the  cause  of  my  hesitancy.  "  I 
am  sorry,  and  —  and  I  sympathize  with  you,  but  I 
hardly  know  how  to  explain." 

She  was  looking  at  me  through  the  darkness;  I  was 
able  to  distinguish  the  white  outline  of  her  uplifted  face. 

"  I  am  sorry  —  yes,"  very  slowly,  "  but  perhaps  not 
as  you  suppose.  It  is  hard  to  think  of  him  as  dead  — 
killed  so  suddenly,  without  opportunity  to  think,  or 
make  any  preparation.  He  —  he  was  my  husband  un- 
der the  law.  That  was  all ;  he  was  no  more.  I  do  not 
believe  I  ever  loved  him  —  my  marriage  was  but  the 
adventure  of  a  romantic  girl;  but  if  I  once  did,  his  sub- 
sequent abuse  of  me,  his  life  of  dissipation,  obliterated 

325 


GORDON  CRAIG 

long  since  every  recollection  of  that  love.  He  is  to 
me  scarcely  more  than  a  name,  an  unhappy  memory. 
I  told  you  that  frankly  when  I  believed  him  still  alive. 
We  were  friends  then,  you  and  I,  and  I  cannot  conceive 
why  his  death  should  sever  our  friendship." 

"  Nor  has  it,"  I  interposed  instantly.  "  It  was  not 
indifference  which  silenced  me.  Rather  it  was  the  very 
strength  of  my  feeling  toward  you.  I  was  fearful  of 
saying  too  much,  of  being  too  precipitate." 

'  You  imagine  I  would  fail  to  value  your  friendship 
at  such  a  time?  " 

"Don't,"  I  burst  forth  impetuously;  "you  talk  of 
friendship  when  all  my  hope  centers  about  another 
term.  Surely  you  understand.  I  am  a  man  sorely 
tempted,  and  dare  not  yield  to  temptation." 

She  drew  her  hand  away  from  my  clasp,  yet  the  very 
movement  seemed  to  express  regret. 

"  You  speak  strangely." 

"No,  I  do  not;  the  words  have  been  wrung  from 
me.  I  am  in  no  way  ashamed,  although  I  realize  this 
is  neither  the  time  nor  the  place.  Remember  you  have 
been  under  my  protection  ever  since  that  night  we  met 
first  on  the  streets;  you  are  alone  here  with  me  now, 
but  still  under  my  protection.  I  cannot  take  advan- 
tage of  your  helpless  condition,  your  utter  loneliness. 

326 


WE  UNDERSTAND  EACH  OTHER 

If  I  did  I  should  never  again  be  worthy  of  the  name 
gentleman." 

"  I  regret  you  should  say  this." 

"No  more  than  I  do;  the  words  have  been  wrung 
from  me." 

"  And  we  are  to  be  friends  no  longer?  Is  that  your 
meaning?  " 

"  You  must  answer  that  question,"  I  replied  gravely, 
"  for  it  is  beyond  my  power  to  decide." 

Her  head  was  again  uplifted,  and  I  knew  she  was 
endeavoring  to  see  my  face  through  the  gloom.  There 
was  silence,  the  only  sounds  the  slash  of  the  boat 
through  the  water,  and  the  slight  flapping  of  the  can- 
vas. 

"  I  am  a  woman,"  she  said  at  last,  "  and  we  like  to 
pretend  to  misunderstand,  but  I  am  not  going  to  yield 
to  that  inclination.  I  do  understand,  and  will  answer 
frankly.  We  can  never  be  friends  as  we  were  be- 
fore." 

My  heart  sank,  and  I  felt  a  choke  in  my  voice  dif- 
ficult to  overcome. 

"  I  was  afraid  it  would  be  so." 

"  Yes,"  and  both  her  hands  were  upon  mine,  "  in  our 
position  we  cannot  afford  to  play  at  cross  purposes. 
You  have  been  loyal  to  me,  even  when  every  inducement 

327 


was  offered  elsewhere.  There  was  a  moment  when  I 
almost  doubted,  but  it  was  only  for  a  moment.  Then 
I  seemed  to  sense  your  plan,  your  purpose,  and  from 
that  time  on  I  have  trusted  you  more  completely  than 
ever  before.  This  is  confessing  a  great  deal,  for  it  is 
my  nature  to  be  reticent  —  I  have  always  been  hard  to 
become  acquainted  with." 

"  I  have  not  found  you  so ;  I  feel  as  though  I  had 
known  you  always." 

"  That  comes  from  the  peculiarity  of  our  first  meet- 
ing, the  unconventional  manner  in  which  we  were 
brought  together.  I  was  not  my  natural  self  that  night, 
nor  have  I  ever  been  able  since  to  feel  toward  you  as 
I  have  in  my  relations  with  other  men.  Indeed  I  have 
been  so  frank  spoken,  so  careless  of  social  forms,  as 
to  make  you  question  in  your  own  mind  my  real  woman- 
hood." 

"  No;  never  that!  "  I  protested. 

"  Oh,  but  you  have,"  and  she  laughed  softly,  a  faint 
trace  of  bitterness  in  the  sound.  '  You  need  not  deny, 
for  I  have  read  the  truth  in  your  face,  yet  without  re- 
sentment. Why  should  you  not,  indeed?  No  man 
would  wish  his  sister  to  take  the  chances  I  have  with 
an  absolute  stranger.  My  only  excuse  is  the  seeming 
necessity,  and  the  confidence  I  felt  in  my  own  strength 

328 


WE  UNDERSTAND  EACH  OTHER 

of  character.  I  permitted  myself  to  come  South  with 
you,  knowing  your  purpose  to  be  an  illegal  one;  I  placed 
myself  in  a  false  position.  In  doing  this  I  was  actuated 
by  two  purposes;  one  was  to  save  this  property  which 
had  been  willed  to  my  husband  by  his  father.  Do  you 
guess  the  other?  " 

"  No,"  I  said,  impressed  by  the  earnestness  with 
which  she  was  speaking.  "  You  will  tell  me?  " 

"  I  mean  to;  the  time  has  come  when  I  should.  It 
was  that  I  might  save  you  from  a  crime.  You  had  been 
kind  to  me,  sympathetic;  I  —  I  liked  you  very  much, 
and  I  knew  you  did  not  understand;  that  you  were  being 
misled.  I  could  not  determine  then  where  the  fraud 
was,  but  I  knew  there  was  fraud,  and  that  you  would 
eventually  become  its  victim." 

"  You  cared  that  much  for  me?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  confessed  frankly,  "  I  did.  I  would 
never  have  told  you  so  under  ordinary  conditions.  But 
I  can  now,  here,  where  we  are  —  alone  together  in 
this  boat."  She  paused,  as  though  endeavoring  to 
choose  the  proper  words.  "  We  both  realize  the 
changed  relations  between  us." 

I  drew  a  quick,  startled  breath. 

"  That  —  that  I  love  you !  "  the  exclamation  left  my 
lips  before  I  was  aware. 

329 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  Yes,"  she  said  calmly.  "  I  could  not  help  that. 
At  first  I  never  deemed  such  a  result  of  our  friendship 
possible.  I  was  Philip  Henley's  wife,  and  I  gave  this 
possible  danger  scarcely  a  thought.  Indeed  it  did  not 
seem  a  danger.  While  it  is  true  he  was  husband  in 
name  only,  yet  I  was  wife  forever.  That  is  my  reli- 
gion. Now  the  conditions  are  all  changed,  instantly 
changed  by  his  death." 

"  You  believe  then  he  is  dead?  " 

"  I  am  as  sure  of  it  as  though  I  had  seen  his  body. 
I  feel  it  to  be  true."  There  was  an  instant  of  hesita- 
tion, while  I  waited  breathlessly.  "  Do  you  under- 
stand now  why  because  of  the  fact  we  can  no  longer 
remain  friends  ?  " 

'Yes,"  I  burst  forth,  "because  you  know  how  I 
have  grown  to  feel  toward  you;  you  —  you  resent — " 

"Have  I  said  so?" 

"  No,  not  in  words;  that  was  not  necessary,  but  I  un- 
derstand." 

"Do  you,  indeed?" 

I  stared  toward  her,  puzzled,  bewildered,  yet  con- 
scious that  the  hot  blood  was  surging  through  my  veins. 

'You  cannot  mean  the  other?"  I  questioned,  the 
swift  words  tripping  over  themselves  in  sudden  eager- 
ness. "That  —  that  you  love  me?" 

330 


WE  UNDERSTAND  EACH  OTHER 

"And  why  not?  Am  I  so  different  from  other 
women?  " 

I  held  the  tiller  still  with  one  hand,  but  the  other 
arm  was  free,  and  I  reached  out,  and  drew  her  toward 
me.  There  was  no  resistance,  no  effort  to  break  away. 
I  could  see  her  face  uplifted,  the  wide-open  eyes. 

"  Different!  Yes;  so  vastly  different,  that  I  misun- 
derstood everything.  But  now  I  know,  and  —  and 
sweetheart,  I  love  you,  I  love  you." 

It  could  not  have  been  long,  not  to  exceed  a  mo- 
ment or  two,  when  a  sudden  leaping  of  the  boat  brought 
us  back  to  a  realization  of  our  position.  As  soon  as 
I  had  regained  control  of  the  craft,  I  reached  out  again 
and  touched  her  hand. 

'  This  is  all  so  strange,  so  unexpected,  I  can  scarcely 
comprehend  what  has  occurred." 

"  Strange,  yes,  in  the  way  it  has  happened,"  she  co- 
incided. "  But  we  cannot  afford  to  dwell  upon  that 
now.  We  are  in  peril.  Do  you  really  know  where  we 
are?  for  what  you  are  steering?  " 

"  It  is  largely  a  guess;  there  is  nothing  to  give  me 
guidance,  except  as  I  unscrew  the  face  of  this  compass 
and  feel  the  needle." 

"  Then  we  may  still  be  within  view  from  the  deck  of 
the  Sea  Gull  at  daybreak?" 

331 


GORDON  CRAIG 

*  Yes;  that  will  depend  entirely  upon  luck." 

She  turned  away,  and  sat  quiet,  staring  forward  in- 
tently into  the  black  void. 

"  What  time  is  it  now?  " 

"  Nearly  three." 

"  In  two  hours  it  will  be  dawn." 

11  Yes." 

I  thought  I  could  see  her  clasp  her  hands  together; 
then  suddenly  lean  forward. 

:t  Why,  look  there !  "  she  exclaimed  quickly.  "  See ! 
to  the  right.  Merciful  Heavens  I  it  is  a  ship  1  " 


332 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

THE   REVENUE    CUTTER 

THE  vision,  indistinct  in  the  gloom,  was  blotted 
out  from  me  by  the  intervening  sail.  It  was  only 
as  I  leaned  well  to  one  side  that  I  could  distinguish  the 
dim  outlines.  By  that  time  we  were  almost  upon  it, 
and  I  could  only  sheer  away  to  avoid  collision.  It 
was  hard  to  determine  the  nature  of  the  vessel,  the 
sides  looming  so  close  above  us,  but  it  was  not  the 
Sea  Gull.  I  was  certain  of  that  from  the  height  of 
the  rail,  and  the  outline  of  a  square  foresail  showing 
dimly  against  the  sky.  From  poop  to  bow  there  was 
not  a  light  visible,  and  the  hull  moved  through  the 
water  like  that  of  a  spectral  ship.  Apparently  we  were 
unnoticed,  and  as  the  stretch  of  water  widened  slightly 
between  us,  I  called  out: 

"  Ahoy  there!     Take  us  aboard!  " 

I  shouted  twice,  before  a  head  popped  over  the  rail, 
and  stared  down  in  apparent  amazement. 

"  Hullo,  the  boat!  Who  are  you?  What  do  you 
want?" 

333 


"Small  boat  adrift;  two  passengers;  throw  us  a 
rope." 

"All  right;  standby!" 

I  could  hear  his  voice  up  above,  shouting  orders; 
there  was  a  rush  of  feet,  and  a  rope's  end  fell  within 
reach.  The  head  bobbed  over  the  rail  again,  and,  a 
moment  later  I  had  helped  her  up  a  swaying  boarding 
ladder,  and  felt  the  solid  deck  under  my  feet.  The  in- 
tense darkness  puzzled  me,  not  a  gleam  of  light  showing 
anywhere.  Suddenly  a  hand  touched  my  arm. 

"This  way,  sir;  help  the  lady  aft  —  the  deck  is 
clear." 

I  could  see  nothing,  barely  the  planks  underfoot, 
yet  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  obey,  with  his  fingers 
gripping  me. 

"  What  kind  of  a  boat  is  this?  "  she  whispered. 

"  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know;  not  big  enough  for  a  pas- 
senger liner." 

"  The  officer  is  in  uniform." 

"  Are  you  sure?  " 

We  were  at  the  head  of  the  companion  stairs,  and 
descended  carefully,  clinging  to  the  rail.  The  officer, 
groping  in  the  darkness,  opened  a  door  at  the  bottom, 
and  hurried  us  into  the  lighted  cabin.  Facing  us,  one 
hand  resting  on  the  table,  stood  a  short,  sturdy  man 

334 


THE  REVENUE  CUTTER 

in  uniform.  Before  I  could  speak,  or  do  more  than 
glance  about  the  interior,  my  eyes  still  blinded  by  the 
sudden  blaze  of  light,  he  began  questioning. 

"  Who  are  you?  how  did  you  come  to  be  adrift  in 
these   waters  ?     Answer  up,   sir  —  you  're   no   fisher- 


man." 


"  We  escaped  from  a  vessel  last  evening,  sir." 

"Escaped!  By  Gad!  are  we  in  a  state  of  war? 
What  do  you  mean  by  escaped  —  run  away  ?  " 

'  Yes,  sir,"  and  I  stepped  aside  so  he  could  see  her 
more  clearly.  "  We  were  being  held  as  prisoners." 

His  eyes  flashed  to  her  face,  rested  an  instant,  and 
then  his  cap  was  in  his  hand. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  young  lady,"  he  said  gravely, 
"  but  this  is  all  most  strange.  I  could  almost  imagine 
this  was  a  century  or  two  earlier  when  pirates  roamed 
these  seas.  You  were  prisoners  you  say,  and  escaped." 

'  Yes,"  I  answered,  before  she  could  do  so,  "  but 
you  must  pardon  us  details  until  we  know  who  it  is  that 
questions  us." 

"  Oh,  exactly;  you  are  unaware  of  the  nature  of  this 
vessel." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

;<  Well,  this  is  the  revenue  cutter  Saline,  which  I  have 
the  honor  to  command." 

335 


GORDON  CRAIG 

I  understood  the  situation  in  a  flash,  my  heart  leap- 
ing in  fierce  anticipation. 

"  Mr.  Smith,  assist  the  lady  to  a  chair,  and  have  the 
steward  bring  a  glass  of  wine.  Now,  sir,  are  you  ready 
to  answer." 

"I  am ;  we  were  prisoners  on  board  the  Sea  Gull. 
It  is  a  long  story,  envolving  a  will,  in  which  the  master 
of  that  vessel  was  interested.  We  escaped  in  a  small 
boat  last  evening,  and  have  been  floating  about  since." 

;'  The  Sea  Gull?  Do  you  remember  the  name,  Mr. 
Smith?" 

"  No,  sir;  perhaps  a  description — " 

"  A  schooner-rigged  steam  yacht,"  I  explained 
briefly,  "  clearing  from  New  Orleans  for  Santiago." 

The  two  exchanged  glances. 

"  I  begin  to  see  light,"  said  the  Captain  calmly.  "  I 
think  the  Sea  Gull  must  have  originally  sailed  as  the 
Mary  Somers.  Do  you  happen  to  know,  sir,  where 
she  was  really  bound,  and  the  nature  of  her  cargo  ?  " 

"I  do;  Spanish  Honduras,  with  munitions  of  war." 

"  Exactly,  under  command  of  a  half-breed  named 
Henley.  By  Gad,  Smith,  this  sounds  too  good  to  be 
true." 

He  walked  across  the  cabin  twice,  thinking,  not  even 

336 


THE  REVENUE  CUTTER 

glancing  up  as  he  passed  us.     Suddenly  he  stopped, 
facing  me. 

"  Where  did  he  get  you  two?  " 
"  In  a  bayou  off  the  Alabama  coast." 
"  And  you  got  away  last  evening  —  how?  " 
"  By  imprisoning  the   Captain  and  steward  below; 
I  was  obliged  to  knock  the  first  mate  overboard,  but 
we  were  unseen  by  any  others.     Let  me  tell  you  the 
whole  story;  it  will  scarcely  require  five  minutes." 

He  nodded  his  head,  walking  back  and  forth  as  I 
reviewed  the  events  swiftly.  I  hardly  think  he  asked 
so  much  as  a  single  question,  his  eyes  upon  my  face  and 
then  upon  the  face  of  the  girl. 

"  A  rather  strange  tale,"  he  commented  when  I  had 
concluded,  "  and,  perhaps,  the  whole  is  not  told.  How- 
ever that  is  none  of  my  affair.  Now  listen;  this  is  a 
revenue  cutter.  We  were  ordered  out  of  Pensacola 
four  days  ago  to  intercept  this  boat  on  which  you  two 
were  prisoners.  We  have  n't  even  sighted  the  vessel, 
and  if  we  did  would  be  perfectly  helpless,  as  she  can 
steam  three  knots  to  our  one.  Only  some  streak  of 
wonderful  good  luck  would  ever  enable  us  to  capture 
her.  I  half  believe  you  are  the  good  luck,  if  you  do 
what  I  suggest." 

22  337 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"What?"  I  asked.  "I  will  be  willing.  Would 
you  need  Mrs.  Henley  also?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  turned  to  the  officer  who  was  still  stand- 
ing. 

"  How  large  was  the  boat,  Mr.  Smith?  " 

"  Capable  of  transporting  about  fifteen,  sir." 

"Hardly  enough;  still  I  don't  know;  we  could  af- 
ford to  take  a  chance.  What  crew  did  the  Sea  Gull 
carry?  " 

"  I  do  not  know  how  many  were  below,  sir,"  I  an- 
swered, beginning  dimly  to  conceive  his  purpose.  "  I 
never  saw  to  exceed  a  dozen  on  deck  in  a  watch." 

"Any  evidence  they  were  armed?" 

"  I  know  they  were  not;  the  officers  carried  weapons, 
but  would  never  trust  the  crew." 

"  And  only  two  officers  remaining?  " 

"  There  may  be  an  engineer,  sir." 

He  pondered  a  moment,  grave-faced,  and  silent. 

"  It  is  not  a  very  complicated  plan,  but  we  will  try 
it.  I  don't  think  Henley  will  leave  these  waters  with- 
out an  effort  to  recover  his  boat,  and  prisoners.  He 
will  want  those  papers,  and  revenge  on  Craig  here.  He 
has  no  warning  that  we  are  after  him.  I  believe  the 
fellow  will  cruise  about  in  the  same  neighborhood  until 
daylight.  What  do  you  say,  Smith  ?  " 

33S 


THE  REVENUE  CUTTER 

"  I  agree  with  you,  sir." 

"  Good;  then  all  we  have  got  to  do  is  lay  a  trap;  the 
boat 's  the  trap." 

"  You  mean  conceal  a  squad  of  men  in  the  bottom, 
and  send  it  adrift  again?  " 

"  Exactly;  lower  the  mast,  as  though  Craig  here  had 
been  unable  to  step  it;  or,  better  still,  heave  it  over- 
board; the  loss  of  weight  will  give  room  for  another 
man.  Then  cover  the  lads  over  with  the  canvas.  They 
will  never  suspect  the  ruse  on  the  Sea  Gull,  or  study 
it  out  through  glasses.  They  '11  simply  recognize  their 
boat,  and  steer  for  it." 

"  The  fighting  odds  will  be  pretty  heavy,  sir,"  said 
Smith  soberly. 

The  Captain's  smile  lit  up  his  stern  features. 

"  I  would  not  so  consider  if  it  was  my  privilege  to 
be  along,"  he  replied.  "  We  must  trust  to  surprise, 
and  get  the  crew  below  fastened  down  before  an  alarm 
is  sounded  on  board.  A  dozen  armed  men  ought  to 
clear  the  decks.  How  do  you  look  at  the  affair,  Craig? 
Will  the  plan  work?" 

"  I  am  not  sure  I  understand  exactly  what  is  pro- 
posed, sir?  " 

"  My  thought  is,  that  this  man  Henley  will  be  suffi- 
ciently anxious  to  get  hold  of  you  two  again,  and  re- 

339 


GORDON  CRAIG 

gain  those  papers,  so  that  he  will  steam  about  slowly 
all  night,  hoping  to  get  sight  of  the  missing  boat  at 
daylight.  He  has  no  means  of  knowing  that  the  reve- 
nue officers  are  after  him.  If  he  sights  us  at  daybreak, 
he  '11  make  a  run,  and  show  us  a  clean  pair  of  heels. 
He  'd  be  hull  down  in  five  hours,  for  this  is  a  slow  old 
tub.  Now  what  I  propose  is  this,"  and  the  Captain 
counted  off  the  points  on  his  fingers.  ;<  There  is  about 
an  hour  of  darkness  left  —  sufficient  to  enable  me  to 
run  this  cutter  in  behind  Cosmos  Island  safely  out  of 
sight.  In  the  meanwhile  we  '11  dismantle  that  small 
boat  a  bit,  slip  a  dozen  good  men  under  the  canvas, 
and  turn  her  adrift." 

"  And  you  wish  me  to  go  also?  " 

"  Yes,  if  you  will." 

"And  Mrs.  Henley?" 

"  That  would  be  the  only  way  to  allay  suspicion  on 
the  Sea  Gull." 

I  hesitated,  half  turning  so  as  to  look  at  her.  Our 
eyes  met,  and  she  must  have  instantly  read  the  question 
in  mine,  for  she  arose  to  her  feet,  and  rested  one  hand 
on  my  arm. 

'  You  wish  to  say  yes?  "  she  asked  quietly.      '  You 
believe  the  plan  will  succeed?  " 

340 


THE  REVENUE  CUTTER 

"  It  sounds  feasible.  I  would  gladly  go  myself,  but 
I  hesitate  at  exposing  you;  there  will  be  fighting." 

"  But  my  being  there  is  one  of  the  requisites  of  suc- 
cess ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so.  If  you  were  not  visible  in  the  boat, 
they  might  suspicion  the  truth." 

She  glanced  toward  the  waiting  Captain,  and  then 
back  into  my  face. 

"  Then  I  will  go,  of  course,"  she  said  smilingly. 
"  Let  us  not  discuss  it  any  more." 

The  Captain  stepped  forward,  bowing,  bare-headed. 

"  Most  bravely  spoken,"  he  said  soberly.  "  I  owe 
you  a  debt,  madam.  Mr.  Smith,  have  the  boat  pre- 
pared at  once  to  carry  out  my  idea." 

"  To  leave  the  impression  that  an  incompetent  sea- 
man had  been  in  charge  of  it  through  the  night,  sir?  " 

"Exactly;  the  mast  overboard,  and  the  canvas 
stowed  badly. 

"  Yes,  sir,  a  big  sheet." 

"  Bunch  it  so  as  to  leave  all  the  space  possible;  leave 
the  jib  set;  it  will  help  conceal  the  men.  Send  Lieu- 
tenant Hutton  here." 

"  He  will  have  command  of  the  party?  " 

"  Yes;  let  him  pick  his  own  men,  and  then  report  to 

341 


GORDON  CRAIG 

me;  arm  them  with  a  revolver  apiece.  Be  lively  about 
it." 

He  turned  to  us  as  Smith  left  the  cabin. 

u  I  cannot  offer  you  much  at  this  hour,"  he  said 
genially,  u  but  the  boy  has  some  hot  coffee  ready. 
Bring  on  what  you  have,  Joe." 


34* 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

THE  DECK  OF  THE  SEA  GULL 

THE  dawn  broke  gray  and  desolate,  the  vista  of 
restless  waters  growing  gradually  wider,  as  the 
light  spread  out  across  the  eastern  sky.  The  clouds 
yet  hung  thick  and  low,  yielding  a  ghastly  aspect  to  the 
dawn,  somberness  to  the  picture  of  breaking  waves 
tipped  by  flying  vapors  of  mist.  I  sat  at  the  tiller, 
grasping  one  of  her  hands  in  mine,  and  staring  anxiously 
about  the  broadening  circle.  The  boat  in  which  we 
rode,  while  buoyant  enough,  still  bore  the  outward  ap- 
pearance of  a  wreck,  the  broken  stump  of  a  mast 
barely  showing  sufficiently  high  to  support  the  flapping 
jib,  and  the  wet  canvas  of  the  mainsail  completely  con- 
cealing everything  forward.  The  men  were  lying  low, 
so  completely  hidden  as  to  be  invisible  even  to  us,  but 
the  Lieutenant  sat  upright,  with  head  above  the  mass 
of  sail,  and  was  scanning  the  sea  with  glasses.  He  was 
a  resolute-looking  fellow,  with  brown  eyes,  and  a  red- 
dish tinge  of  hair.  As  he  lowered  the  glasses  a  mo- 
ment, I  saw  him  glance  back  at  us  curiously. 

343 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  Had  n't  seen  you  before,"  he  explained  cordially 
enough.  "  Dark  when  we  came  over  the  side,  you 
know.  Bad  morning." 

"  The  fog  is  lifting.  What  is  that  black  mass  out 
there?" 

"  Cosmos  Island,"  and  he  turned  his  lenses  the  other 
way.  "  The  next  ten  minutes  will  give  us  n  clear  view." 

I  looked  at  her,  noting  how  tired  her  eyes  appeared 
in  the  gray  light,  although  they  smiled  courageously. 

"  I  wish  you  were  not  here,"  I  whispered. 

"  Please  do  not  say  that.  I  —  I  really  I  wished  to 
come.  I  do  not  think  I  could  have  let  you  go  without 


me." 


"  But  you  are  so  tired  — " 

"  No  more  than  you,  I  am  sure.  Why,  I  have  done 
nothing  except  to  stay  awake.  You  have  had  all  the 
work  and  worry.  It  will  not  be  long  now." 

"No;  we  shall  know  in  a  few  minutes  If  the  Sea 
Gull  is  standing  by  hunting  us.  If  she  shows  up,  you 
must  do  exactly  as  I  say.  You  promise  that?  " 

"  Of  course,"  and  the  clasp  of  her  hand  tightened. 
"  You  have  no  reason  to  doubt  me." 

The  Lieutenant's  eyes  were  on  the  widening  sea  line, 
and  I  bent  down  and  pressed  my  lips  to  her  bare  arm. 
I  glanced  up  again  into  flushed  cheeks. 

344 


THE  DECK  OF  THE  SEA  GULL 

"  It  has  been  a  great  night,"  I  said  sincerely.  "  The 
one  in  all  my  life  best  worth  living  through." 

"  I  almost  believe  you  mean  that." 

"Don't  you?" 

"  Can  you  not  read  my  answer  in  my  eyes?  " 

"  Craig,"  exclaimed  the  Lieutenant  suddenly,  "  that 
must  be  the  fellow  off  there  to  port.  Here,  try  the 
glasses  —  just  where  the  cloud  is  lifting  a  bit." 

I  was  some  time  gaining  the  proper  focus,  but  when 
I  once  had  the  distant  vessel  caught  fairly  in  the  lens, 
I  recognized  her  instantly. 

"  That 's  the  Sea  Gull,  and,  by  heavens,  they  are  keep- 
ing a  sharp  lookout  on  board.  See!  she  is  swinging 
on  her  heel  already;  they've  sighted  us." 

He  grasped  the  glass,  and  stared  out  through  it  in 
silence  for  several  minutes.  Then  he  thrust  it  into  a 
pocket  and  settled  back  out  of  sight  behind  the  canvas 
screen. 

'  You  have  called  the  turn,"  he  said  quietly,  "  and 
the  dance  is  about  to  begin.  Unship  your  rudder  and 
let  it  go.  Let  them  think  you  are  wrecked,  helpless  to 
escape,  and  they  will  be  more  careless.  You  men 
there,  loosen  your  guns,  and  be  ready  to  scale  a  ship's 
side  in  a  jiffy,  but  lie  perfectly  still  until  I  give  the 
word."  He  turned  his  head. 

345 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  You  understand  what  you  are  to  do,  Craig,  you  and 
the  lady?" 

"  I  think  so.  We  are  to  obey  Henley's  orders,  and 
go  on  board." 

"  Yes,  but  do  something  as  soon  as  you  reach  the 
deck  to  attract  attention,  and  get  them  away  from  the 
rail.  Try  and  get  the  lady  as  far  astern  as  possible,  for 
there  is  likely  to  be  some  fighting.  Are  you  frightened, 
miss?  " 

"  No,"  although  her  voice  trembled  from  excite- 
ment. "  You  need  not  worry  about  me." 

I  caught  the  gleam  of  admiration  in  the  Lieutenant's 
eyes  as  he  looked  at  her,  but  almost  instantly  his  thought 
centered  on  his  own  work. 

"All  right,  then;  I  shall  not  wait  for  any  signal. 
Now  listen,  men ;  these  are  my  last  orders.  When  I  say 
go,  get  up  any  way  you  can,  and  hit  the  first  man  you 
see.  Hit  hard,  but  no  shooting  unless  they  use  fire- 
arms. But  fight  like  devils,  and  do  it  quick.  They 
outnumber  us  three  to  one.  Marston,  you  and  Simms 
take  the  stoke  hold  and  the  forecastle.  Keep  those  fel- 
lows below  down  with  your  revolvers.  Shoot  if  you 
need  to.  The  rest  of  you  stick  close  to  me.  All  clear, 
lads?" 

346 


THE  DECK  OF  THE  SEA  GULL 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir,"  returned  the  muffled  voices  from  be- 
neath the  canvas. 

I  unshipped  the  rudder,  letting  it  disappear  noise- 
lessly beneath  the  waves,  and  the  boat's  head  swung 
slowly  around,  and  we  drifted  helplessly,  the  jib  flap- 
ping. With  our  eyes  on  the  approaching  vessel  we  re- 
mained motionless  in  the  stern,  our  hands  clasped.  The 
flush  had  faded  from  out  her  cheeks,  yet  once  she  turned 
toward  me  and  smiled.  Forward  not  so  much  as  the 
twitch  of  a  muscle  revealed  any  other  presence  in  the 
boat,  the  only  visible  thing  a  jumble  of  ropes  and  can- 
vas, apparently  dragged  hastily  from  the  water  by 
inexperienced  hands.  The  waves  tossed  us  about  so 
that  any  seaman  would  recognize  instantly  our  predica- 
ment. The  manner  in  which  the  jaunty  Sea  Gull  bore 
down  upon  us  was  proof  that  those  on  board  had  al- 
ready grasped  the  situation,  and  had  no  remaining  sus- 
picion of  treachery.  She  was  under  steam,  with  no  sail 
set,  and  the  rapidly  increasing  light  gave  me  a  fairly 
clear  view.  In  low  monotone,  without  turning  my 
head,  I  managed  to  convey  my  observations  to  the  mo- 
tionless officer. 

"  She  's  heading  straight  toward  us  under  low  pres- 
sure. There  are  two  men  on  the  bridge,  and  a  lookout 

347, 


GORDON  CRAIG 

on  the  bow.  Now  she  's  swinging  to  port  to  bring  up 
close.  There  's  a  group  at  the  rail  near  the  starboard 
gangway.  About  ten,  I  should  say.  Can  you  see, 
Viola?" 

"  Twelve,"  she  answered  quietly,  "  and  three  for- 
ward. The  third  man  at  the  rail  is  the  Captain,  and 
he  has  a  glass." 

"  By  George  1  you  are  right.  I  recognize  the  fellow 
now.  Broussard  is  on  the  bridge.  They  expect  no 
trouble,  Lieutenant,  and  only  have  the  regular  watch 
on  deck.  They  are  getting  too  close  for  me  to  talk  any 


more." 


It  was  indeed  a  beautiful  picture  had  we  only  been 
in  a  mind  to  enable  us  to  enjoy  the  scene.  The  de- 
serted ocean,  rolling  gray  and  dismal  under  the  cloudy 
sky,  white  caps  showing  in  every  direction  as  our  boat 
was  flung  helplessly  aloft  on  the  steady  roll  of  the  sea. 
The  coast  line  was  not  visible  from  our  elevation,  and 
nothing  broke  the  gray  round  of  horizon  but  clouds 
of  floating  vapor,  slowly  drifting  away  before  the  sun, 
which  was  already  yielding  a  faint  crimson  glow  to  the 
east.  Behind  us,  probably  two  miles  distant,  arose  the 
rough  ridge  of  Cosmos  Island,  while  bearing  down 
upon  us  from  the  north,  with  a  westward  sheer  suffi- 
cient to  expose  her  beautiful  lines,  came  the  Sea  Gull. 

348 


Yet  graceful,  handsome  as  she  appeared,  my  entire  at- 
tention centered  on  the  group  of  men  at  her  rail.  They 
were  watching  us  intently,  Henley  with  a  glass  at  his 
eyes.  Twice  I  saw  him  turn,  and  wave  his  hand  to 
Broussard  on  the  bridge,  slightly  altering  the  vessel's 
course,  and  once  the  sound  of  his  voice  echoed  faintly 
across  the  intervening  water. 

It  was  quite  evident  that  as  yet  he  perceived 
nothing  to  arouse  suspicion,  for,  with  a  swing  like  a 
hawk,  the  Sea  Gull  bore  down  upon  us,  the  engines 
slowing,  and  then  reversed.  We  were  staring  up  into 
the  faces  that  looked  curiously  down  at  us.  Henley 
gripped  a  stay  and  swung  himself  to  the  rail;  farther 
aft  the  negro  steward  hung  over,  his  mouth  wide  open, 
grinning  at  the  spectacle. 

"  Hard  down!  "  yelled  the  Captain,  motioning  with 
one  arm.  "  Plug  her,  man.  Now  you  damned  army 
hound,"  he  called  to  me,  "catch  that  rope,  and  make 
fast." 

One  of  the  hands  flung  the  coil  so  that  it  fell  at 
my  feet,  and  I  did  as  directed,  as  otherwise  we  would 
have  been  crushed  under  the  vessel.  As  it  drew  taut, 
the  boat  swung  in  gently  against  the  side  of  the  Sea 
Gull.  Above  us  Henley  hung,  leaning  far  enough  out 
so  he  could  look  down. 

349 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  Now,  you  damn  thief,"  he  screamed,  "  it 's  my  turn 
to  play  jailer.  Come  up,  both  of  you." 

"  Just  a  moment,  Captain  Henley,"  I  answered,  ris- 
ing to  my  feet.  "  If  there  is  anyone  to  be  punished  I 
am  the  one ;  this  woman  had  nothing  to  do  with  it." 

'  That 's  for  me  to  decide,"  he  snarled,  and  whipped 
out  a  revolver.  "  I  know  how  to  handle  both  of  you. 
Come,  jump  now,  you  dog,  or  you  never  will  move 
again.  Pass  the  girl  up  first,  and  be  lively  about  it. 
Give  them  a  hand  there,  Peters,  and  don't  be  too  easy." 

There  was  no  excuse  for  delay;  besides,  those  lads 
under  the  heavy  canvas  must  be  nearly  smothered. 
With  my  arm  about  her  I  lifted  her  up  to  where 
Peters  could  reach  down,  and  grasp  her  hand,  and  then 
followed  as  quickly  as  possible.  Henley  had  swung 
down  to  the  deck,  and  stood  there,  his  men  grouped 
about  him,  the  revolver  still  in  his  hand.  One  glance 
at  his  face  told  me  he  was  insane  from  rage,  thinking 
only  of  revenge. 

'  Take  the  woman  below,"  he  snapped,  his  cruel 
teeth  gleaming.  "  By  God !  she  '11  get  her  lesson. 
Here,  Louis,  you  damned  nigger,  don't  you  hear  me? 
Lock  her  in,  and  bring  me  the  key.  I  '11  handle  this 
sniveling  thief  first.  So  you  could  n't  run  a  boat,  hey ! 
Not  so  easy  as  it  looked,  was  it,  you  dog.  Thought 

350 


THE  DECK  OF  THE  SEA  GULL 

we  'd  be  gone  this  morning,  did  n't  you  ?  You  '11  find 
I  'm  not  quite  as  easy  as  all  that.  Now,  by  God !  you  '11 
take  your  medicine !  " 

I  still  stood  motionless,  my  back  to  the  rail,  letting 
him  rave,  but  watching  every  movement.  I  knew  the 
girl's  eyes  were  on  my  face,  although  I  did  not  ven- 
ture to  glance  toward  her,  not  even  when  the  negro 
guided  her  aft  through  the  ring  of  seamen.  Yet  this 
was  the  one  thing  I  was  waiting  for,  my  heart  beating 
fiercely,  in  fear  lest  the  Lieutenant  might  give  signal 
for  attack  too  soon.  I  remember  the  faces  about  me, 
fierce,  scowling  faces,  of  men  wild  to  lay  hold  upon  me 
at  the  first  word  of  command,  yet  it  was  Henley  I 
looked  at,  measuring  the  distance  between  us,  and 
watching  the  revolver  in  his  hand.  What  did  he  mean 
to  do?  Kill  me,  or  give  me  over  into  the  hands  of 
those  merciless  devils  ?  All  I  could  read  in  his  eyes  was 
hatred,  exultation,  consciousness  of  power.  Suddenly 
he  laughed,  a  sneering,  cynical  laugh,  as  though  he 
thought  me  cringing  before  him  in  terror.  The  man 
judged  me  by  himself,  and  believed  me  helpless. 

"Hard  luck,  Craig  —  hey!"  he  began  tauntingly. 
"  Played  with  the  wrong  man,  did  n't  you.  Now  I  've 
got  the  girl  just  as  I  want  her,  and  as  for  you  —  Lord ! 
but  I  '11  keep  you  to  play  with  all  the  way  to  Hon- 

351 


GORDON  CRAIG 

duras.  It  will  be  a  pleasant  voyage,  my  friend.  Here, 
Masters,  you  and  Peters  stand  by.  Now,  you  robber, 
give  me  those  papers." 

I  handed  them  out,  watching  closely.  Peters  stood 
at  my  right,  one  hand  on  my  arm;  the  other  fellow 
must  have  been  behind  me.  Henley  grasped  the  en- 
velope, opening  the  flap  to  be  sure  of  its  contents.  The 
movement  caused  him  to  lower  the  revolver,  and  avert 
his  gaze,  for  just  an  instant.  With  one  motion  I  flung 
Peters  aside,  and  jammed  a  clinched  fist  into  the  Cap- 
tain's face. 


352 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

IN   POSSESSION 

MASTERS  must  have  struck  me  at  almost  the  same 
instant  my  fist  landed  on  Henley,  for  we  went 
down  together,  his  revolver  discharging,  the  flying  bul- 
let gouging  my  shoulder,  burning  the  flesh  like  a  red- 
hot  wire.  Yet  I  grappled  him  even  as  we  crashed  to  the 
deck,  but  the  fellow  lay  stunned,  motionless  as  a  dead 
man.  Everything  happened  quicker  than  I  can  tell  it; 
with  such  rapidity,  indeed,  that  not  a  hand  touched  me. 
I  could  barely  struggle  up  on  one  knee,  dazed  still 
by  the  stroke  which  had  floored  me,  and  glance  about, 
when  the  blue-jackets  came  tumbling  over  the  rail,  and 
leaped  at  the  astounded  crew  of  the  Sea  Gull.  It  was 
a  swift,  short  fight,  the  assailants  having  every  advan- 
tage. I  saw  the  Lieutenant,  bare-handed,  dash  into 
the  group,  striking  out  left  and  right,  his  men  at  his 
heels.  There  was  a  volley  of  oaths,  a  thud  of  falling 
bodies,  a  sharp  command,  and  the  shrill  pipe  of  a  boat- 
swain's whistle.  Two  men  rushed  forward,  the  first 
disappearing  behind  the  chart-house.  The  second 
23  353 


GORDON  CRAIG 

encountered  Broussard  stepping  off  the  bridge  ladder, 
and  hurled  the  fellow  to  the  deck  with  one  blow  of  a 
sledge-hammer  fist.  Scarcely  pausing  to  see  whether 
he  was  alive  or  not,  the  assailant  ran  on  toward  the 
forecastle. 

The  whole  affair  was  over  in  two  minutes,  the  blue- 
jackets circling  out  like  a  fan,  and  pressing  their  enemy 
into  a  helpless  mass  against  the  rail.  For  a  moment 
the  fight  was  furious,  every  man  for  himself,  then  the 
Lieutenant  drove  like  a  wedge  into  the  bunch,  and  it 
was  all  over.  I  struggled  to  my  feet,  still  viewing  all 
through  a  mist,  and  swaying  back  and  forward  as  I 
endeavored  to  steady  myself  on  the  rolling  deck.  There 
was  no  one  at  the  wheel,  and  the  bow  of  the  Sea  Gull 
was  swinging  slowly  about. 

"  On  to  the  bridge  there,  Coates,  and  hold  up  her 
head,"  sang  out  the  officer.  "  Boatswain,  take  charge 
of  these  beauties,  and  run  them  into  the  forecastle. 
Leave  two  men  on  guard,  and  take  a  squint  into  the  en- 
gine room.  Report  to  me  here." 

He  took  off  his  coat,  examined  a  long  slit  in  its 
side  where  a  vicious  knife  had  ripped  it  from  shoulder 
to  tail;  then  slipped  it  on  again,  and  watched  his  men 
drive  their  prisoners  forward. 

"  I  'd  like  to  know  which  one  of  them  did  that,"  he 

354 


IN  POSSESSION 

growled,  glancing  toward  me.  "  Say,  what  is  the  mat- 
ter with  you  —  shot?  You're  white  as  a  sheet  of 
paper,  man." 

"  I  got  one  on  the  head  with  a  belaying  pin  from  the 
heft  of  it.  The  bullet  touched  me  —  here.  Lord,  how 
it  burns." 

"Who  did  the  shooting?" 

"  Henley  here,"  and  I  touched  the  fellow  with  my 
foot.  "  He  fired  just  as  I  hit  him." 

The  Lieutenant  stepped  forward  and  looked  down 
into  the  upturned  face. 

"  So  that 's  the  man !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  We  Ve  done 
a  good  day's  work.  I  Ve  heard  stories  of  that  half- 
breed  ever  since  we  Ve  been  on  this  coast.  He  must 
be  a  natural  devil,  but  he  's  played  hide  and  seek  with 
Uncle  Sam  for  the  last  time.  This  will  be  a  feather  in 
the  '  old  man's  '  cap.  He  's  waking  up." 

Henley  stirred  as  he  spoke,  and  opened  his  eyes, 
staring  up  into  my  face,  and  then  at  the  Lieutenant's 
uniform.  The  sight  of  the  latter  perplexed  him. 

"  Who  the  hell  are  you?  "  he  asked  angrily,  making 
an  effort  to  rise.  "Where  is  Broussard?" 

"  Henley,"  I  said,  stepping  in  between  them,  "  the 
game  is  up,  and  the  best  thing  you  can  do  now  is  keep 
quiet.  This  gentleman  is  Lieutenant  Hutton,  of  the 

355 


GORDON  CRAIG 

Revenue  Cutter  Saline,  and  his  men  have  the  crew  of 
the  Sea  Gull  under  hatches  forward.  Give  me  back 
those  papers." 

He  had  the  envelope  still  clasped  in  his  left  hand, 
and  he  glanced  at  it  dully,  and  then  beyond  me  toward 
Hutton.  Apparently  his  brain,  yet  numbed  by  the 
blow,  failed  to  entirely  comprehend.  The  Lieutenant, 
however,  was  a  man  of  action.  With  grip  on  his  collar 
he  jerked  the  poor  wretch  to  his  feet,  and  held  him 
there. 

"  Hand  over  those  papers  to  Craig,"  he  ordered 
shortly,  "  and  be  lively  about  it.  I  have  n't  anything 
to  do  with  that  affair,  and  I  don't  think  you  will  have 
much  more  from  now  on.  You  are  my  prisoner,  and 
you  are  good  for  a  ten  spot  at  least.  Stand  up,  yow 
coward."  He  forced  him  back  against  the  rail,  an£ 
glanced  about  the  deck.  The  boatswain  was  coming 
aft. 

"  Well,  Sloan,  how  did  you  find  things?  " 

"All  serene,  sir;  the  whole  crew  bottled  up,  and 
mighty  little  fight  left  in  them." 

"  The  engine  room?  " 

"  The  engineer  was  a  bit  ugly,  sir,  and  had  to  be 
man-handled  proper.  He  's  lyin'  in  a  coal  bunker  with 
a  sore  head,  cussin'  blue.  But  the  assistant  is  a  young 

356 


"Give  me  back  those  papers" 


IN  POSSESSION 

fellar,  an'  kin  run  the  engines.  I  left  him  in  charge 
with  a  couple  o'  lads  lookin'  after  him." 

"Who  has  the  wheel?" 

"  Somers,  sir." 

"  All  right;  have  steam  kept  up,  and  make  the  course 
south,  southeast.  Send  a  couple  of  men  here  to  get 
this  boat  on  deck.  Put  all  the  fire-room  fellows  who 
won't  work  into  the  forecastle  with  the  others.  Here, 
take  this  man  along  also.  He  's  the  Captain,  but  no 
better  than  the  rest." 

Henley  started  back,  with  some  crazy  hope  of  re- 
sistance, but  the  great  fist  of  the  boatswain  gripped  his 
collar. 

"  Come  on,  you,"  he  said,  jerking  him  savagely. 
"  Yer  bloody  pirate;  make  another  crack,  an'  I  '11  land 
yer  one.  Is  he  that  Henley,  sir?  "  of  the  Lieutenant. 

"Yes;  ever  hear  of  him?" 

"  Have  I !  Aye,  many  the  time.  He  's  wanted  in 
Galveston,  sir,  for  somethin'  worse  than  runnin'  arms 
—  it  was  a  knifin'  job,  sir." 

"  And  not  the  last  either,  if  what  Craig  says  is  true. 
Take  the  fellow  forward.  Ah !  there  comes  the  Saline 
now  —  just  poking  her  nose  out  from  behind  the  ridge." 

I  looked  as  he  pointed,  clutching  the  recovered  papers 
in  my  hands,  and  forgetful  of  Henley.  The  sun  had 

357 


GORDON  CRAIG 

discovered  an  opening  in  the  cloud  bank,  and  a  long 
shaft  of  golden  light  played  across  the  water,  gleaming 
with  white  caps.  Into  its  radiance  the  revenue  cutter 
was  gliding,  outlined  against  the  leafy  shade  of  Cosmos 
Island,  her  flaq;  standing  out  like  a  board  in  the  fresh 
breeze,  her  cutwater  churning  up  a  mass  of  foam.  She 
made  a  beautiful  picture,  one  that  fascinated  me  for  the 
moment,  and  caused  me  to  forget  my  own  immediate 
incidents.  I  was  brought  back  to  a  realization  of  the 
situation  by  Hutton's  hand  on  my  shoulder. 

"  Nice-looking  old  girl,  but,  like  all  of  her  sex,  a 
gay  deceiver.  Slowest  tub  that  ever  floated  a  U.  S. 
flag;  any  coal  barge  could  get  away  from  her  in  a  fair 
wind.  Take  her  half  an  hour  now  to  get  within  hailing 
distance,  and  the  old  man  raging  to  learn  the  news. 
How  do  you  feel?  still  groggy?  " 

"  All  right,  except  for  a  stiff  headache." 

;<  Then  come  into  the  cabin.  There  is  nothing  more 
to  do  on  deck,  and  I  want  to  get  sight  of  the  ship's 
papers.  Where  was  the  fellow  cleared  for?" 

"  Santiago." 

"  And  his  cargo  ?  " 

"Miscellaneous;  mostly  farm  machinery  —  worth 
investigating." 

"  I  '11  have  some  of  the  boxes  broken  open,  but  will 

358 


IN  POSSESSION 

take  a  squint  at  the  papers  first.     What  became  of  the 

girl?" 

"  The  steward  took  her  below,  and  locked  her  in  be- 
fore the  fracas  started." 

"  I  thought  so;  I  heard  a  little  of  the  talk,  and  hung 
back  so  as  to  give  you  plenty  of  time."  He  laughed, 
good-humoredly.  "Nice  little  scrap,  Craig;  those  fel- 
lows never  even  heard  us,  until  I  was  over  the  rail.  By 
the  way,  is  the  young  lady  married?  I  never  heard  the 
whole  story." 

"  She  is  a  widow,"  I  replied,  a  bit  stiffly,  resenting 
his  flippancy  of  tone.  "  She  was  the  wife  of  this  Hen- 
ley's half  brother,  but  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  he 
is  dead." 

He  looked  into  my  face,  a  glint  of  amusement  in  his 
eyes. 

"  Let  us  hope  the  good  news  is  true,"  he  said  so- 
berly. "Come,  don't  flare  up,  man;  I  recognize  the 
symptoms.  But  don't  you  think  she  will  be  crying  her 
pretty  eyes  out  down  below?  " 

We  went  down  the  companion  stairs  together,  into  a 
deserted  cabin.  No  steward  was  in  evidence,  and,  find- 
ing the  Captain's  stateroom  locked,  the  Lieutenant 
kicked  open  the  door,  and  entered.  I  turned  back,  ex- 
plored the  passage,  and  finally  dragged  Louis  out  from 

359 


GORDON  CRAIG 

a  dark  corner  of  the  pantry.  That  darky  was  plainly 
in  a  state  of  flunk,  his  legs  trembling,  and  the  whites  of 
his  eyes  much  in  evidence. 

"  Oh,  Lor',  Massa  Craig,"  he  whined.  "  Ah  ain't 
done  nuthin',  deed  Ah  ain't,  sahl  " 

"  You  locked  up  the  girl." 

"  Ah  just  had  to,  sah.  Captain  Henley  he  just  nat'- 
rally  skin  me  alive,  sah,  if  Ah  don't.  But  Ah  nebber 
hurt  her  none." 

"Where  is  she?" 

"  In  number  five,  sah;  here  —  here  am  de  key." 

11  All  right,  Louis,"  and  I  tossed  him  into  one  cor- 
ner. "  Now  listen;  set  that  table,  and  get  some  food 
on  it  quick.  Make  coffee,  but  don't  wait  for  anything 
else." 

"  Yes,  sah." 

I  crossed  the  cabin,  and  inserted  the  key.  As  the 
door  opened  she  stood  there  waiting,  her  hands  held 
out. 


360 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

A    HOMEWARD   VOYAGE 

"TT  —  It  is  all  over  with?     You  have  been  suc- 

JL  cessful?" 

"  Yes,  don't  worry,"  and  I  held  her  hands  fast,  look- 
ing into  her  eyes.  "  There  can  be  no  further  trouble. 
Captain  Henley  and  his  crew  are  prisoners." 

"  And  no  one  was  hurt?     You  were  not?  " 

"  Oh,  there  are  a  few  sore  heads,  but  nothing  seri- 
ous. I  got  a  crack  myself;  bled  a  little  —  see." 

She  placed  her  fingers  on  the  wound,  stroking  the 
hair  gently,  her  eyes  full  of  anxiety. 

"Is  that  all?  Please  tell  me;  I  —  I  heard  a  shot 
fired." 

"  Henley's  revolver;  no  damage  done.  Really  you 
must  accept  my  assurance.  Come  out  into  the  cabin; 
Louis  is  getting  breakfast  ready." 

"Where  is  the  Lieutenant?"  hesitating  slightly. 

"  In  Henley's  cabin,  going  through  the  papers.  He 
wants  to  have  a  full  report  ready  when  the  Saline  comes 
up.  The  three  of  us  will  breakfast  together." 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  You  must  permit  me  to  wash  the  wound  on  your 
head  first,"  she  insist  d.  "  The  hair  is  all  matted  with 
blood.  Please." 

"  Of  course,"  and  I  laughed.  "  Even  then  I  will 
not  be  very  presentable;  these  clothes  are  frightful; 
the  last  week  has  been  a  strenuous  one." 

"  What  about  me !  "  and  she  shot  a  look  downward. 
"  I  've  only  had  the  one  dress." 

"  The  marvel  of  it,"  I  interrupted  ardently.  "  You 
look  as  though  you  had  just  come  from  the  dressing- 
table." 

"You  do  not  think  so!  " 

"But  I  do;  still,  it  may  be  a  case  where  love  is 
blind." 

The  fresh  color  swept  into  her  cheeks. 
'  That  is  the  only  explanation  possible,  I  am  sure. 
See  how  the  skirt  is  stained,  and  the  lace  ruffle  is  almost 
torn  off." 

"  Oh,  well,  don't  worry;  the  Lieutenant  has  lost  his 
natty  appearance  also.  Some  villain  slashed  his  coat 
its  full  length.  However,  I  accept  your  offer." 

She  ministered  to  me  with  womanly  gentleness,  part- 
ing the  matted  hair,  and  cleansing  the  wound  with 
water.  While  in  no  way  serious  it  was  an  ugly  bruise, 
and  required  considerable  attention.  Sitting  there  on  a 

362 


A  HOMEWARD  VOYAGE 

stool  while  she  worked,  I  could  hear  Louis  bustling 
about  in  the  cabin,  but  my  mind  was  busy  with  a  thou- 
sand matters  requiring  settlement.  At  last  I  refused 
to  be  ministered  to  any  longer,  laughing  at  her  desire  to 
bandage  my  held,  and  insisting  that  all  I  needed  now 
was  breakfast.  As  we  entered  the  cabin,  the  Lieuten- 
ant stood  in  Henley's  door. 

"  I  was  looking  for  you,  Craig,"  he  said,  coming 
forward,  and  bowing  to  my  companion.  "  Here  is  a 
newspaper  clipping  which  may  be  of  interest.  I  found 
it  on  the  deck." 

I  read  it  hastily,  and,  in  silence  handed  it  to  her, 
watching  her  face  as  she  read.  It  was  a  local  item  de- 
scribing the  finding  of  a  dead  body  which  could  not  be 
identified.  The  details  of  the  man's  appearance  as  well 
as  the  clothes  worn  were  carefully  depicted,  evidently 
in  hope  someone  might  thus  recognize  the  party.  She 
remained  with  the  bit  of  paper  in  her  hands  for  what 
seemed  a  long  while,  while  we  waited.  Then  her  eyes 
were  slowly  lifted  to  our  faces. 

*  That  was  Philip  Henley,"  she  said  soberly. 

"  You  are  sure?  " 

;<  There  is  no  possibility  of  mistake;  the  description 
is  almost  photographic  and  the  clothing  I  remember 
well." 

363 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  Your  husband,  madam?  "  asked  the  Lieutenant,  as 
I  remained  silent. 

"Yes;  legally  my  husband,  although  he  had  driven 
me  from  him  by  dissipation  and  neglect.  I  —  I  cannot 
tell  you  the  wretched  story  now." 

"  Nor  do  I  ask  it,"  he  hastened  to  assure  her. 
"What  is  it,  Mapes?" 

A  blue-jacket  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  one 
hand  lifted  in  salute. 

"  The  Saline,  sir,  is  alongside,  and  hailing  us.  The 
boatswain  sent  me,  sir." 

We  followed  the  two  on  deck,  and,  after  one  glance 
about,  I  led  her  around  the  bulge  of  the  cabin  to  the 
narrow  deck  space  astern.  The  boat  in  which  we  had 
escaped  had  been  hoisted  into  its  davits,  and  we  halted 
in  its  shadow.  The  sea  was  gently  rolling  in  great 
crested  waves,  with  no  land  visible  except  Cosmos  Is- 
land. The  most  of  our  crew  must. have  been  busy  for- 
ward, as  only  three  or  four  hung  over  the  port  rail  in 
idle  curiosity.  The  two  vessels  moved  side  by  side, 
separated  by  a  narrow  stretch  of  green  water,  a  thin 
vapor  of  smoke  visible.  I  could  perceive  the  white- 
ness of  the  Saline's  deck,  and  the  group  of  officers  on 
the  bridge.  The  Captain,  facing  us,  hollowed  his 
hands. 

364 


A  HOMEWARD  VOYAGE 

"What  have  you  to  report,  Mr.  Hutton?" 

"  The  vessel  is  in  our  possession,  sir,  and  the  crew 
under  guard  below." 

"Any  injuries?  " 

"  None  serious,  sir." 

"And  the  Captain  —  the  half-breed  Henley;  did 
you  get  him?  " 

"  He  's  with  the  others." 

"  Better  put  the  fellow  in  irons,  Hutton.  There  are 
some  serious  charges  against  him,  you  know.  Have 
you  men  enough?  " 

"  I  could  use  a  half  dozen  more." 

"  Very  well ;  I  '11  send  them  over  with  Mr.  Steele." 

"  What  is  to  be  our  course,  sir?  " 

"  Pensacola.     Don't  wait  for  us." 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir.     Shall  I  hold  Craig  and  the  lady?  " 

"  Not  on  this  case ;  we  have  all  the  evidence  needed. 
If  you  take  their  addresses  that  will  be  all  that  is  neces- 
sary. Pleasant  voyage !  " 

He  waved  his  hand,  and  then,  perceiving  us  as  he 
turned  away  from  the  rail,  lifted  his  cap  in  salute.  A 
moment  later  a  boat  heavily  manned  shot  out  from  the 
cutter's  black  side,  and  headed  toward  us.  We  stood 
there  alone  in  the  shadow,  watching  its  approach. 

u  It  is  all  over  now,  dear,"  I  whispered. 

365 


GORDON  CRAIG 

"  Yes,  but  —  but  I  do  not  feel  as  though  I  could 
ever  touch  that  money." 

"  You  will  have  no  choice.  The  courts  will  decide 
that." 

She  glanced  aside  at  me  shyly,  and  one  hand  rested 
on  the  rail  of  the  boat. 

"  I  know  what  I  would  like  to  do  with  some  of  it." 

"What?" 

11  Buy  this  —  this  boat." 

"  In  memory?  " 

"  Of  course  —  you  loved  me  then." 

"  And  now,  and  always.  Do  you  know  what  is  the 
first  thing  I  shall  do  when  we  make  Pensacola  ?  " 

"  No." 

I  clasped  the  straying  hand  and  drew  her  to  me, 
looking  down  into  her  eyes. 

"  Telegraph  my  father  I  am  coming  home." 

"Is  that  all?" 

"  And  that  I  shall  bring  a  wife  with  me.  Right 
here  I  end  my  career  as  a  soldier  of  fortune." 

Under  the  protecting  shadow  of  the  boat  our  lips 
met. 

THE  END 


366 


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